Moving On. . .
Change is the Loss of Attachment.
Attachment is Familiarity.
Familiarity is Comfort.
Change is the Loss of Attachment.
Loss of Attachment is Loss of Familiarity.
Loss of Familiarity is Discomfort.
Discomfort is pain.
Pain is Loss.
Obviously, all these things are interelated. And sometimes it frightens me how Painful change can be.
Another way to look at this might be more enlightening.
Change is Adaptation.
Adaptation is Progress.
Progress is Survival.
Survival is in the best interest of Human Beings.
Loss of Survival is Death.
Or is it?
Why is it that we continue to believe that we need to exist? In all that life is, would it be so terrible to cease existance? To sleep and to be peaceful? Let go of our selfish ambitions, and forget the pain of loss. Without anything to lose, there would be no pain of loss.
To some this may be a surprise, and to others, a laughable fact, but I fear change. I don't fear Adaptation, nor do I fear Progress, and I certainly do not fear Death.
Change is Loss of Attachment.
Within that phrase, I stress "Loss of Attachment" as my weakness.
I've been brought up in a world of needless attachment. Materials, posessions, even some bonds; I regret attaching myself to them all. I am now in front of the door to Progress, and have been trying to figure out how to open that door without falling back into the typhoon of Attachment behind me.
Because Progress is Survival.
Survival is overcoming Death.
Overcoming Death, is the path to knowing our place; our Purpose.
And finally, finding Purpose means finding Meaning, and through Meaning, Accomplishment.
Ultimately, isn't this life all about Accomplishment? Not the selfish progression of an individual, but the contribution to Mankind's purpose, to God's plan, and once again, to Mankind's True Contribution to the Cosmos.
Six Months ago, I felt like I was caught in a web of Bonds and Attachments. When I tried to escape, the strings of the web would stick to my back. Every step I took towards the door of Progress, of Survival, of Purpose, I felt the strings pulling me back like an elastic. So then I decided to unsheathe my sword, and cut down the Attachments and Bonds myself, making it ever easier to step towards the door. But in that lay pain, sorrow, and ultimately, Loss. The very thing I was afraid of.
So I rethought my ways, and accepted the bonds. Accepted the Attachments, and embraced them, bringing them with me towards the door, so that I wouldn't be alone when I finally stepped into that door. But now, here I am once again, with the web strings one by one leaving by their own accord, along with them their strings and I find myself every increasingly alone as I stand in front of this door. Not bound by the strings of Attachments, but by the invisible strings of Memory and Joy. And because of my fear, I take those memories in my hand and I run back; away from the door, and back to where those memories fit, to their right Attachments.
So one by one, like a keyring to multiple doors, I insert them, only to find those strings won't stick to me anymore. All I'm left with is this basket of memories, this keyring to multiple doors to the past, standing alone in front of this door to Progress, Purpose and Accomplishment.
I hold this basket, with my back turned to the door, watching all those doors in the distance; most of them closed. And I wonder why I can't walk through that door behind me with the basket I hold full of memories (Because that basket can come with me, but the strings could not), waiting, trying to hold back my tears, and watching those doors where some are closed, and some I just can't fit through anymore; not after what I've seen. Waiting for those attachments to come back out of those doors and wish me farwell, and contributing just a little more to my basket of memories. To finally put my fear to rest. . .
MartMan, out. . .
Attachment is Familiarity.
Familiarity is Comfort.
Change is the Loss of Attachment.
Loss of Attachment is Loss of Familiarity.
Loss of Familiarity is Discomfort.
Discomfort is pain.
Pain is Loss.
Obviously, all these things are interelated. And sometimes it frightens me how Painful change can be.
Another way to look at this might be more enlightening.
Change is Adaptation.
Adaptation is Progress.
Progress is Survival.
Survival is in the best interest of Human Beings.
Loss of Survival is Death.
Or is it?
Why is it that we continue to believe that we need to exist? In all that life is, would it be so terrible to cease existance? To sleep and to be peaceful? Let go of our selfish ambitions, and forget the pain of loss. Without anything to lose, there would be no pain of loss.
To some this may be a surprise, and to others, a laughable fact, but I fear change. I don't fear Adaptation, nor do I fear Progress, and I certainly do not fear Death.
Change is Loss of Attachment.
Within that phrase, I stress "Loss of Attachment" as my weakness.
I've been brought up in a world of needless attachment. Materials, posessions, even some bonds; I regret attaching myself to them all. I am now in front of the door to Progress, and have been trying to figure out how to open that door without falling back into the typhoon of Attachment behind me.
Because Progress is Survival.
Survival is overcoming Death.
Overcoming Death, is the path to knowing our place; our Purpose.
And finally, finding Purpose means finding Meaning, and through Meaning, Accomplishment.
Ultimately, isn't this life all about Accomplishment? Not the selfish progression of an individual, but the contribution to Mankind's purpose, to God's plan, and once again, to Mankind's True Contribution to the Cosmos.
Six Months ago, I felt like I was caught in a web of Bonds and Attachments. When I tried to escape, the strings of the web would stick to my back. Every step I took towards the door of Progress, of Survival, of Purpose, I felt the strings pulling me back like an elastic. So then I decided to unsheathe my sword, and cut down the Attachments and Bonds myself, making it ever easier to step towards the door. But in that lay pain, sorrow, and ultimately, Loss. The very thing I was afraid of.
So I rethought my ways, and accepted the bonds. Accepted the Attachments, and embraced them, bringing them with me towards the door, so that I wouldn't be alone when I finally stepped into that door. But now, here I am once again, with the web strings one by one leaving by their own accord, along with them their strings and I find myself every increasingly alone as I stand in front of this door. Not bound by the strings of Attachments, but by the invisible strings of Memory and Joy. And because of my fear, I take those memories in my hand and I run back; away from the door, and back to where those memories fit, to their right Attachments.
So one by one, like a keyring to multiple doors, I insert them, only to find those strings won't stick to me anymore. All I'm left with is this basket of memories, this keyring to multiple doors to the past, standing alone in front of this door to Progress, Purpose and Accomplishment.
I hold this basket, with my back turned to the door, watching all those doors in the distance; most of them closed. And I wonder why I can't walk through that door behind me with the basket I hold full of memories (Because that basket can come with me, but the strings could not), waiting, trying to hold back my tears, and watching those doors where some are closed, and some I just can't fit through anymore; not after what I've seen. Waiting for those attachments to come back out of those doors and wish me farwell, and contributing just a little more to my basket of memories. To finally put my fear to rest. . .
MartMan, out. . .