I love and feel this one so much, Orly. I grew up a military brat and moved a lot. My poor brother always eased carefully into the move, only to finally be ripped from what finally felt like home to him. I learned to abandon the notion of 'home' long ago. To hold on for dear life for as long as I could, and let myself be flung to the next wild mess life would have ready for me.
All of the craters where my meteor has landed are grown over with grass and weeds. Some are under shopping malls. I'm so grateful there's still so much wild space where I can walk softly and leave no trace.
Yes, 🙏 So awesomely worded, and so deeply felt dear Orly. Even when we're told to stay detached, as this is all temporary. We lose ourselves in 🌏 things, because while we are here, we are enchanted by the beauty of it all.
What lovely and true reflections, all brought about by a student's lament! I feel for the student, having been there (!) but of course, all that you say is so true! And is it really ever letting go? I think not. Can't wait to soon be in another one of your inspiring classes, to receive such daily truths in person! Until then, I have Wednesdays...
This. Orly! Yes. Over here, nodding vigorously. I am most definitely an attach-ling! And I am always desperately crushed in the letting go. Letting go and something changing is inevitable. I think. Attached or not. I go heart all in to life. I must be made of glue. I seek to not live half-assed but to be filled in, colored in, and outside the lines so full of everything; exuberant to the point of implosion. Sometimes it all happens so fast, in the time it takes to take a breath. I fall in love or am in awe of something, or a place, or a moment, and I get attached to it, knowing full well that it won't last. And most often, I have no choice but to move forward. In art, I see something I get excited about, and then in a flash, I have to try it, see what happens, and then see what happens next. In art, the one thing that is true, you can do all the things and get attached to them, the pieces in front of you that are everything you hoped they could be, and you allow them to stay that way, and then you do it all over again, it's different, and you take it farther and farther away from how it began. In art, there are always do-overs. Moments of leaping right off the edge. Of being brave and taking flight. You allow pages of a canvas or a thing to have its freedom and, in the act of creating and getting attached over and over again, but still you take the next step. It's like when a toddler take it's first step you want them to keep going, regardless how tentative the steps maybe because that is the moment you get attached to and will always remember or when a child learns how to ride a bike and you are holding the bike and running beside them and you want them to tell you to let go, and for you to know almost instinctively when to let go and again you get attached to that moment but you'd never want to stop their momentum. Living is getting attached and letting go. That is the eternal experience in having a full life; the opposite of that would be complete indifference, I think, and I know I couldn't live that way. Just my humble ruminations on your thoughts.
Yes, yes, so many yeses, and more and more, yes!!! Beautiful yeses to everything you share. And the only thing I can’t do is the phrase ‘letting go’, it’s impossible. Unrealistic. I prefer ‘letting be’, ‘letting change’, letting leave, letting in, letting out, letting up, just letting. Allowing attachment, making room for another, and another. Not using precious energy to ‘not getting attached’. It defeats the purpose of life, it’s that serious for me. So thankful the practices of making lets us practice ‘attachment’, (as oppose to none attachment) without severe consequences to our nervous systems. Loving our on going conversations Susie. Throughout the years. 🙏🏻💓Thankful!
You are special to me Orly. A soul sister I have yet to meet. You are held sacred to me but not in such a way as to be lofty or haughty, I hold you sacred as I hold nature, the shade of a beautiful oak, or the waves rushing up to tickle toes, the smoosh of walking barefoot in wet sand, standing in the rain and jumping in puddles. That is how you are sacred to me. And I am not letting go of that ever. Good attachments I think.
So very good attachment, the best kind. And it is reciprocal, as it is so beautiful to me. Reliable and awe giving each and every time, day, event. 🙏🏻😌💓one that is easy, not challenging an overwhelmed nervous system.
Oh this is a good one, Orly. Even I, who blathers on ceaselessly, am left speechless. What can I add? Maybe memory is our savior. Just that we have it at all. Memory is everything, our sustenance. And we can even doctor it up to be better than the reality it was based on.
Every thing and every place and every person we have ever loved is inevitably lost. As my old boyfriend Willy Shakespeare used to tell me, we are “all spirits and/Are melted into air, into thin air; [and] shall dissolve… We are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/ Is rounded with a sleep.”
So cover up the paint, the paper, the canvas, the everything. The second the paint dries, it has become already the past. It was never ours in the first place.
Wow, Cindy dear, breathtakingly written. Yes, and you are so lucky to have a boyfriend such as Willy, to give you such words, to soothe, and to devastate, all in one fell swoop. And here I’m now, smiling and shedding tears, all at once, while reading your thoughtful and heartfelt comment. All in such gratitude for an honesty so rare and so comforting. For a blessed attachment. 🙏🏻🦋🤎
So well said, Orly. When I heard you in Taos and now again I always need to remind myself, give myself permission and sometimes push myself in my uncomfortableness to get attached-
These days I’m attached to not only my family, but to my plants, other people’s children, black tea with honey and milk, beauty, creating, place….it was not always this way.
I love and feel this one so much, Orly. I grew up a military brat and moved a lot. My poor brother always eased carefully into the move, only to finally be ripped from what finally felt like home to him. I learned to abandon the notion of 'home' long ago. To hold on for dear life for as long as I could, and let myself be flung to the next wild mess life would have ready for me.
All in!
Yes. All in Jon, to the bitter end. Haha. Well trained in abandonment. It became our gift.
All of the craters where my meteor has landed are grown over with grass and weeds. Some are under shopping malls. I'm so grateful there's still so much wild space where I can walk softly and leave no trace.
Oh beautiful, Jon. 🙏🏻
Yes, 🙏 So awesomely worded, and so deeply felt dear Orly. Even when we're told to stay detached, as this is all temporary. We lose ourselves in 🌏 things, because while we are here, we are enchanted by the beauty of it all.
🥹yes Julia. 😘
What lovely and true reflections, all brought about by a student's lament! I feel for the student, having been there (!) but of course, all that you say is so true! And is it really ever letting go? I think not. Can't wait to soon be in another one of your inspiring classes, to receive such daily truths in person! Until then, I have Wednesdays...
I wish it was only one student’s lament 😢 Thank you so much dear Lauren. Will see you soon. Until then we have Wednesdays, you, so sweet. 🙏🏻♥️🙏🏻
😘
🙏🏻🤎😘
This. Orly! Yes. Over here, nodding vigorously. I am most definitely an attach-ling! And I am always desperately crushed in the letting go. Letting go and something changing is inevitable. I think. Attached or not. I go heart all in to life. I must be made of glue. I seek to not live half-assed but to be filled in, colored in, and outside the lines so full of everything; exuberant to the point of implosion. Sometimes it all happens so fast, in the time it takes to take a breath. I fall in love or am in awe of something, or a place, or a moment, and I get attached to it, knowing full well that it won't last. And most often, I have no choice but to move forward. In art, I see something I get excited about, and then in a flash, I have to try it, see what happens, and then see what happens next. In art, the one thing that is true, you can do all the things and get attached to them, the pieces in front of you that are everything you hoped they could be, and you allow them to stay that way, and then you do it all over again, it's different, and you take it farther and farther away from how it began. In art, there are always do-overs. Moments of leaping right off the edge. Of being brave and taking flight. You allow pages of a canvas or a thing to have its freedom and, in the act of creating and getting attached over and over again, but still you take the next step. It's like when a toddler take it's first step you want them to keep going, regardless how tentative the steps maybe because that is the moment you get attached to and will always remember or when a child learns how to ride a bike and you are holding the bike and running beside them and you want them to tell you to let go, and for you to know almost instinctively when to let go and again you get attached to that moment but you'd never want to stop their momentum. Living is getting attached and letting go. That is the eternal experience in having a full life; the opposite of that would be complete indifference, I think, and I know I couldn't live that way. Just my humble ruminations on your thoughts.
Yes, yes, so many yeses, and more and more, yes!!! Beautiful yeses to everything you share. And the only thing I can’t do is the phrase ‘letting go’, it’s impossible. Unrealistic. I prefer ‘letting be’, ‘letting change’, letting leave, letting in, letting out, letting up, just letting. Allowing attachment, making room for another, and another. Not using precious energy to ‘not getting attached’. It defeats the purpose of life, it’s that serious for me. So thankful the practices of making lets us practice ‘attachment’, (as oppose to none attachment) without severe consequences to our nervous systems. Loving our on going conversations Susie. Throughout the years. 🙏🏻💓Thankful!
You are special to me Orly. A soul sister I have yet to meet. You are held sacred to me but not in such a way as to be lofty or haughty, I hold you sacred as I hold nature, the shade of a beautiful oak, or the waves rushing up to tickle toes, the smoosh of walking barefoot in wet sand, standing in the rain and jumping in puddles. That is how you are sacred to me. And I am not letting go of that ever. Good attachments I think.
So very good attachment, the best kind. And it is reciprocal, as it is so beautiful to me. Reliable and awe giving each and every time, day, event. 🙏🏻😌💓one that is easy, not challenging an overwhelmed nervous system.
Oh this is a good one, Orly. Even I, who blathers on ceaselessly, am left speechless. What can I add? Maybe memory is our savior. Just that we have it at all. Memory is everything, our sustenance. And we can even doctor it up to be better than the reality it was based on.
Every thing and every place and every person we have ever loved is inevitably lost. As my old boyfriend Willy Shakespeare used to tell me, we are “all spirits and/Are melted into air, into thin air; [and] shall dissolve… We are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/ Is rounded with a sleep.”
So cover up the paint, the paper, the canvas, the everything. The second the paint dries, it has become already the past. It was never ours in the first place.
Wow, Cindy dear, breathtakingly written. Yes, and you are so lucky to have a boyfriend such as Willy, to give you such words, to soothe, and to devastate, all in one fell swoop. And here I’m now, smiling and shedding tears, all at once, while reading your thoughtful and heartfelt comment. All in such gratitude for an honesty so rare and so comforting. For a blessed attachment. 🙏🏻🦋🤎
So well said, Orly. When I heard you in Taos and now again I always need to remind myself, give myself permission and sometimes push myself in my uncomfortableness to get attached-
These days I’m attached to not only my family, but to my plants, other people’s children, black tea with honey and milk, beauty, creating, place….it was not always this way.
Beautiful Amy, I am glad. Hopefully in the future a ‘reminding’ won’t be needed. Love to you 🙏🏻