Lessons from Samwise

on kissing the joy as it flies, and the wisdom of non-attachment

Ralphie (Sam’s brother and litter mate) lends his arm in comfort.

There is a painting that hangs in the hallway right at the entrance to my kitchen. My mom made it for me and it holds one of my favourite quotes by William Blake. It says: "He who binds himself to a joy does the winged life destroy, but he who kisses the joy as it flies lives in eternity's sunrise." It's one of those little reminders I occupy myself with when I am anything but kissing the joy as it flies. You would think that as often as I remember it, as many times as I pass it each and every day, that I would take it to heart and live by its rule more often than not.

William Blake was not a Buddhist, but his words portray a well-known principle of Buddhist philosophy, the idea of non-attachment. It's also one of those new-agey catch phrases, that the only way we can truly be happy is to live in the present and not be too attached to the outcome of things. I wish life could always be this free and easy, and it probably could be, but the truth is that I am not always in such a place of no expectations. No, often I am my own worst enemy. I would like to change that about myself, and so I'm trying to understand why I tend to hold on to some things so tightly, why I have so much of my heart invested in the outcome at times. I want to learn to appreciate the things I love as they are and when they are present, and not be so wrapped up in the "what if one day they are not there anymore." Easy to say, very very difficult to do.

This is me and my Sammie on his first day in my home.

Here is what I know: the more we grasp or try to hold onto something or someone the more we are setting ourselves up for pain or disappointment. If we don't have whatever it is we desire then we obsess about it, or even despair about its absence. The same feelings apply to when we actually do get what we desire because then we are afraid we are going to lose it. It's like a never-ending cycle and as long as we have this desire we can't be at rest. Is it actually wrong to desire something? Especially something that is good for us, that we love, that is healthy? I don't think so. The object of our desire isn't the problem. It's our attachment to the outcome that causes the anxiety and sometimes even pain.

Kitten Samwise ❤️

One obvious example in my life right is my long-time feline companion, Samwise. His health has been in decline for the past many months, the natural progression of kidney disease.  He has done fairly well with stage four kidney disease for a couple of years now, and I have known all along that despite my efforts to keep him sailing along, that one day soon his time here with us will be over. This is exactly the kind of thing for which the idea of non-attachment is so helpful. I’ve had the privilege of sharing my home with many cats over my sixty years and none of them have lived forever; I know that one day I will have to say goodbye. Along the way I have witnessed each of them live their last days with differences as varying as their personalities. I’ve also understood how my own anxiety has affected each of them, sometimes not in the best of ways, and I promised myself and Samwise that this time I would hold myself as stoically as he has shown himself to be. I am enjoying our time with him, letting him find his own way to the next realm on his own terms, not interfering except to offer him food and water and comfortable, clean, safe places to rest, even to hide, as long as we can access him if necessary. He has not been in pain, is not struggling, but has slowly been eating less and less and sort of removing himself from the normal daily life of his brother and sister, Ralphie and Coraline. Sure, my heart is heavy and for us to lose him, and also sad for him as he doesn’t really seem ready to leave, but it’s just been so much less stressful and painful than other experiences I have had with dying pets. I’ve accepted reality and am making the best of each day we have. I’ve seemed to grasp it in this instance so why can't I apply it to all of the other parts of my life as well? I’m thinking these lessons from Sam are helping me find my way, too.

Sometimes I wonder if we think that if we do let go of our attachments and expectations is that it means we're just giving up. I don't think so. It's possible to continue to strive for what we desire, because the desire itself is not a bad thing, but it's only a good thing if we are not attached to the outcome. Doesn't it sound so simple? It's not so simple, as we all know.

Sammie and his sister Coraline. These three cats have never been apart. They love each other so much.

The truth is, the world is transient. Physical objects, every one of them, will at one point in time fade away. Even Mt. Everest will one day erode to nothing if the world as we know it sticks around long enough. And the intangible things in life are even more temporary: social status, reputation, fame—all can arrive and depart in a flash. Even the greatest man, once dead, is only a fleeting memory for a few and eventually for no one. All things, even the best of things, will come to an end. This is what scares me most. Some things are so wonderful I don't want them to ever end, but this is precisely the point. Non-attachment doesn't mean you have to give up on them just because they will one day end no matter what you do. It means to treasure them, to understand how special something is and really treasure it, and not spend your precious time worrying about the day it may not be there anymore. It's inevitable. Enjoy these things, relish every moment, and understand that one day everything has to go.

It makes such good sense, that knowing all good things will pass, and must pass, can allow us to truly appreciate and savour them even more. But then why does the pain, the fear of losing them still rise up in my chest whenever it hits me that nothing is forever?

We can have attachment to negative things and situations just as strongly as to the positive. Attachments can form onto almost anything in our lives: chocolate, television, money, cars, sex, alcohol, success, approval, expensive clothes. One of the biggest places where we can feel the pain of attachment is in our relationships and that's probably the most difficult place to learn to let go. Even as unfulfilling as my  first marriage was, it took me a very long time to come to the realisation that I really could let go of it. I learned so much from the ending of my marriage, that the end of something doesn't mean it never existed and that in many ways it gave both my former husband and myself new life and a chance to make something better for ourselves than we ever could have had if we continued to hold one another hostage out of the fear of change. It makes sense to me now, but when I was in the thick of it I didn't believe it would ever be possible. Maybe I can look at it as a success in being in the moment and coming through the other side of loss. Because isn't this what keeps us attached in the first place? The fear of loss and inevitable change?

My sweet, noble boy when he was still healthy. The most gentle soul I’ve known.

I want to believe that there is a happy medium somewhere between desire and letting go of expectations. That it's possible to live and love deeply without the constant ache that comes when we worry about what it would be like if the people and things we treasure most were suddenly swept away.

There is a woman I know of who lost her husband, who was truly the love of her life, in an accident so tragic it is unfathomable. What is so remarkable is her ascending spirit after so much loss and grief. No, she has not stopped grieving, but she is still living her life, and happily. With joy and celebration of all that she once had and still, somehow, has. Sometimes I try to imagine how I would carry on if I were to lose Rick in a similar way and the pain I feel is so sharp in my chest it takes my breath away. I truly cannot imagine. And yet, somehow, I know that love transcends time and space and what she had didn't altogether end, and perhaps has even grown stronger. Just because it is not physically present to her, doesn't mean it's not there. Such a difficult thing to comprehend, but then, deep inside in a visceral way, I do understand. I want to carry her spirit in my heart in regard to all of things I may sometimes hold too tightly and with too many expectations. 

For now I am so honoured to share my heart and my days with my Samwise as he finds his way onward. And when he does, may his heart be at rest and may my heart be full. 

"He who binds himself to a joy does the winged life destroy, but he who kisses the joy as it flies lives in eternity's sunrise.” William Blake