clinging

It seems like the more we have to lose, the more likely we are to do whatever it takes to prevent losing what we have.

That fear of being without. What is it really? Fear of death? Fear that I won't survive without these things and people? Or is it more subtle than that - fear of the death of identity? I won't know who I am, I'll be nothing without these things?

Really it's more like the more attached I am to what I have and the less I trust in myself and in life, the more likely I am to compromise freedom, integrity and values and such to keep them. But without certain perspectives or experiences to override this it seems most of us naturally do get attached. We even shape ourselves to what we have and become who we are in relation to them. At least on the surface.

I see it in myself and in others. The compromising and charades. It's completely normalized. Saying things we don't mean, doing things we don't want to do, acting like someone we're not. Why? When you get to the core of it it's usually either to get things/people or to hold onto them.

What would it be like to live with complete integrity? To only speak and carry out the truth as we see and feel it? Is that even possible in this world?

It's bringing to mind the naked sadhus in India. All they have is a single piece of cloth, if even that, and maybe a begging/food bowl and other necessities. For the most part they're determinedly naked and alone. But even that can be a kind of attachment, can't it? Is pushing things away so different from clinging to them? Aren't you clinging to something intangible?

I don't really know, but I've felt stuck to things I've pushed away too so it doesn't seem so simple. I wonder what it feels like to push everything away? Compared to everyone I know I'm very much a minimalist and I have found it liberating to let go of things. I'd rather have less than have my thoughts and time occupied with all of it. I like the feeling of uncluttered spaciousness both mentally and materially. But that's indicative of my own mental stickiness I think. Or maybe it's just how the mind is and it's a more efficient means to freedom than trying to detach, grow and explore while buried under piles of old things and habitual interactions? Still, there seems to be a point where I can end up depriving myself. When letting go of something might have hindered me more than keeping it.

I want to be free. This life can be a gift if I let it. If I can really accept death with my whole heart and stop running from it. It's coming! It's certain! No matter what I do or have, it's only a matter of when. Am I going to spend that time compromising what I think, feel, want and need in order to cling and claw at things? For the illusion that having them will keep death at bay?

It seems there's a balance needed, and maybe that balance is different for everyone. Some pleasures and growth requires work and connections, which requires a sacrifice of self for collective movements. The question is, how much is worth sacrificing? The work and connections can be joys in themselves too but where's the line where it stops being worth it? Where I've given too much for something out there and lost something more precious within?