“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” –Robert Burns
One of the things I have enjoyed most about my homeless tour of America this summer is planning the logistics of the trip. It’s fun to look at a calendar and fill the empty days like an artist filling a blank canvas. There’s a certain freedom involved with making plans for a three-month adventure.
But there’s a reason that the famous Yiddish proverb says, “Man plans, and God laughs.” Even the best laid plans are subject to change.
I was enjoying kicking around Florida, seeing friends and family, and visiting some of my favorite places. My tenure in Florida was supposed to last until the middle of July, but fate had other plans. While I was complaining about an insignificant rain shower in the Keys, my office in Wisconsin was being deluged with several inches of rain. Not only did my office flood, but I stored all of my furniture and other possessions in an empty office in the same building, and it got flooded too. It was time to head north.
As you might imagine, I was a little freaked out. My business was literally under water, and nearly everything I owned had been damaged by the flood waters. But something unexpected happened. I stopped freaking out.
I tend to like to control things. I’m not a control freak, but I prefer to direct the outcome of my life rather than accept whatever life brings my way. It’s how I’ve lived most of my life, and although the results have been mixed, I’ve generally been happy with the outcomes.
For whatever reason, this flood shifted my thinking. Rather than continually worrying about the flooding, I just accepted that all of my stuff had been ruined. When I let go of the attachment to my things, the worry dissipated. Suddenly, the idea of starting with a clean slate became appealing. I came to embrace the idea of starting over.
Although I welcomed this change in perspective, I have to admit that it surprised me. As I drove north toward Wisconsin, several times, I caught myself trying to get upset about the flood damage. It was an odd phenomenon trying to be upset. I couldn’t do it. I was at peace with whatever damage the flood had caused.
I didn’t know it during my drive, but I soon learned about the destructive power of attachments from Anthony de Mello, an Indian priest and psychotherapist. De Mello, who died in 1987, spoke about how attachments lead to unhappiness and anxiety.
Here’s how he described an attachment:
“An attachment is a state of clinging to something or someone that you believe is necessary for your happiness. Thus, attachments have you thinking, ‘Unless or until I get or can keep [fill in the blank], I cannot be happy’…Attachments have us thinking that, I cannot be happy unless I get out of debt . . . I can’t be happy unless my boss appreciates me. . . unless I make that sale . . . unless my neurosis goes away.”
I remember hearing something similar from a Buddhist teaching. In that case, it was that attachment and expectations lead to suffering. Remove the attachment or expectation, and suffering disappears. The Buddha taught that all things are impermanent, and attachment to them, whether material possessions, relationships, or even our own bodies, leads to dissatisfaction and pain when they inevitably change or cease to exist.
For de Mello, this does not mean that we have to give up enjoyment of the material world. There is a difference between denouncing the material world and simply detaching from it. As he explains, “One uses the material world, one enjoys the material world, but one does not make one’s happiness depend on the material world. We begin to enjoy worldly things when we are unattached because attachment makes us tense, frustrated, nervous, insecure and fearful. Let go of an attachment to something, and we begin to enjoy what it provides.”
Although this way of thinking was not completely new to me, I don’t think that I’ve ever practiced it before. The experience was a little uncomfortable, but the outcome was great. I detached the connection I had to my material possessions in the office, and I was happy despite potentially losing nearly everything I owned. I was at peace with whatever happened. It’s not a feeling I was used to, but I wanted more of it.
When I got to my office, things were much better than I expected. Not only had the office that houses my business dried out, but I found that my personal possessions had only suffered minor damage. My initial worry was a complete waste of time. I suppose that’s another important lesson I need to learn.
I’m thankful that the flood didn’t destroy my things, but I’m even more thankful for the change in my thinking that the flood brought about. As a result, I’m going to work hard in the future to stay detached from material possessions, relationships, and outcomes. Easier said than done, I know. But it’s a worthy goal.
My time in Wisconsin came to an end. I’ll be back at the end of the month, but it was time to head out on the road again, this time to see my brother and a couple of friends. More on that next time.
