Sunday, April 1, 2012
You can't take it with you
It occurred to me this morning as I was allegedly meditating that the practice of releasing my grip is one way in which I can get ready for what must eventually happen, you know: death. That is indeed the ultimate unclencher of fists, hey?
My mother used to say that during the first half of life, we acquire stuff, spend the last half giving it all away. I didn't have a clue what she was talking about at the time, but I get it now. I love getting rid of stuff; I'm the opposite of a hoarder. Good lord must I always be so contrarian?
I sifted through more boxes of photos last night. Every picture that meant nothing to me went promptly into the recycle bin. Ahh, what a great feeling, letting go. What I was imagining last night is that by the time I'm old and my life force begins to fade, I will own so few items that it won't take anyone that long to clean up after me when I pass. I have no kids, partner, not even a pet to whom I might pass on the few items of worth I own. Might as well make it easy for whomever gets stuck tying up the loose ends.
Today I realized that the practice of unclenching my fists will also help my spirit rise up and out of my body when that time arrives. In my heart of hearts I think I'm going to live on quite a ways into old age. There's no rush to let go of material and emotional and spiritual stuff, but oh my it feels so good. Ahhhhnwards and upwards.
One of the last things I'll get rid of, most likely, is my camera.