Attachments come in a multitude of sizes, energies, and so on. Some we may benefit from, such as the attachment (clasp) on the back of one’s bra. Ol’ boulder holder wouldn’t hoist those boobies up if it weren’t for that clasp! But, attachments can really suck and drain us if we aren’t observant of our minds and that to which they cling.
Many of us have an attachment to physical items, such as caffeine (GUILTY!!), chocolate (GUILTY), and _________________________ (fill in the blank with that thing you get way cranky about when it’s not around). One of my other physical attachments is to the gym. I morph into a snarling hag if I miss my exercise.
Sometimes we become attached to manifesting a certain outcome, such as receiving a coveted job promotion. It can be that there is a situation occurring in our lives, and for us to be happy campers, it MUST turn out the way we think is best.
I asked my Facebook friends what attachment meant to them, and this is a response which sums it up brilliantly:
Basically, you are up shit creek without a paddle because you are reliant on _________________ (fill in the blank with your favorite) to make you happy! “I have to have green tea in the morning to wake up–it can be no other way!,” barks my Attachment Monster.
Like right now, for example, I am attached GREATLY to the idea of figuring out how to get the rest of this blog to type in the font used at the beginning. I have NO freaking clue how to do that! “Grrrrrrr!!!!,” growls Attachment Monster.
I am choosing to chill out my Attachment Monster by deciding that I am not benefitting from this attachment to font style, and thusly I can finish the dang blog in a calm mindset.
Basically, attachments can keep you stuck in very rigid patterns. Rigid patterns are typically no fun.
If a thought pattern (attachment) ain’t serving you, what the hell are you doing getting wound up about it? I was able to easily convert my distress about the font into a laissez-faire attitude since banging my head against the wall trying to figure out WordPress isn’t serving me.
Many of us are perfectionists, an attachment sure to make one nuttier than squirrel shit. My therapist led me to see that good enough is good enough–I didn’t come here to be perfect, my hair can be a bit sloppy and life as we know it will still churn forth.
There. I just saved you some money in counseling.
When you find yourself with panties in a twist because your attachment to whatever is highly unpleasant, remember that you can choose to release it. You can find peace by remembering that alternative outcomes may be jolly good after all.
So bombs away with discarding your attachments!