Attachment Diaries: Chapter 4

The attachments are spreading and dissolving. They are still very intense when they arise, but now they are reduced to aspects of experience — the smell of cologne, for example. Very interesting. I can’t help but wonder if this carries on perpetually, with the nature of the object diminishing in significance while the degree of attachment either maintains or increases… Or if it’s rather like the energy of a dying star, where it is the most intense just before it extinguishes itself. I like that analogy because star death creates the base components for all other beings, myself included. This gives me hope that something more intricate and complex may be born of the death of this long-living, intense energy.

So now I’m sitting back to watch the death throes of my romantic passion… I wonder what will take its place. Maybe I’ll finally have all the energy for writing I never felt I had. Maybe I’ll find it easier to meditate, or I’ll have latent abilities awaken. I’d be happy with any of these outcomes. Maybe intimacy will die with my attachment to it… Maybe I’ll no longer be capable of it anymore. Or maybe it’ll just be a different texture, more like true intimacy rather than constantly attempting fusion.

I guess I’ve gotten close to this a few times in my life, but it’s always scared the hell out of me around this point. My anxiety builds to a fever pitch around now, as the attachment tendrils try harder and harder to give me something my Self is willing to indulge my ego to clutch. It feels a little like one of those cash-grab games, where there’s so much flying all around you but you can’t seem to get your hands on much of anything, and you become frustrated by your ineptitude as you focus on what you’ve missed rather than what you’ve gained.

I think that’s the layer hidden beneath this regression pattern… As I track back through time in my attachment thoughts, I notice things I appreciated back then that I’ve since had to surrender. I suppose I can just remember those times instead of constantly seeking to repeat or recreate them. When this is resolved in me (if it ever truly is), I may be able to embrace new experiences in that arena, but for now, I think it’s best if I hold myself back from those indulgences. Too easy to backslide.

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