CHAPTER 1

Letting Go: The Basics

Within the human heart, we all feel the call to be simple, to be present, to bereal. Yet throughout the day, the world urges us to be at war with ourselves andeach other: "Be resentful about the past." "Be anxious about the future." "Behungry for what you don't see." "Be dissatisfied with what you do see." "Beguilty." "Be important." "Be bored." "Be right." Little else in nature exhibitsthis need to be more than it is. The simplicity of rain, the clarity of a star,the effortlessness of a bird, the single-mindedness of an ant—all are just whatthey are.

Underwear on the floor can break up a marriage. Yet the eyes of puppies light upwhen they see boxers or briefs. To them, dirty socks are not reasons for fightsbut reasons for play. Obviously, most little animals are hooked on somethingquite divine. Something within them releases enormous freedom. I suggest thatsomething is simplicity and purity, and that we can experience the possibilitiesof this natural state as well. A mind that learns to let go gradually returns toits inherent wholeness, happiness, and simplicity.

For example, the people who are in our lives today, are in our lives today—whatcould be simpler than this? Yet so often we react to those we encounter with amind churning in conflict: we don't want them here; we can think of other peoplewe would rather have here; we're not even sure we want to be here; when willthis be over; why does this always happen to us; and on and on. When we becomepreoccupied with what we want or don't want from someone, or what we do or don'tapprove of, we fail to see that person's goodness, malice, gentleness, sadness,or anything else that is present. This habitual reaction to other people and toeverything else in life needlessly complicates our lives and blocks simpleenjoyment and peace.

Big Truck

When Gayle's and my son, John, was two years old, we lived in Santa Fe, NewMexico. One day he and I were standing on a street corner, waiting for the lightto change, when a semi slowly began rounding the corner just as the walk lightcame on. Suddenly I was caught up in the delay this truck was causing by passingin front of us. Then I heard John say, "Big truck." I looked down and his eyeswere wide with amazement. I looked at this enormous semi passing so close wecould have reached it in one step. And I said, "Big truck." Because now I reallysaw it. It seemed like the mother ship in a Star Wars movie.

Maybe I'd been thinking that the truck shouldn't have been there or that what Ihad to do was more important than what the truck driver had to do. Whatever itwas, that thought was all it took to keep me from enjoying just standing besidemy son and holding his hand. Just one unnecessary thought. Little children havevery few, if any, unnecessary thoughts, and that's why they are usually focused,present, and happy.

A mother bird sees a snake climbing her tree and thinks "snake." Immediately shestarts dive-bombing it. I have seen what a bird can do to a snake that doesn'tclimb down fast enough. However, it's clear what would happen to her babies ifthat same mother bird saw the snake and thought, "I do more good in the worldthan that snake." Or, "I don't like that snake; it's slimy looking." Or, "Asnake in the grass has no business being in a tree." Or, "I'm going to give thatsnake a piece of my mind."

Not only do we give people a piece of our mind, we give them a piece of ourhappiness, wholeness, focus, and sometimes, a piece of our health.

Our lives are filled with useless battles because our minds are filled withuseless thoughts. We never finish thinking about anything. We carry aroundunhappy scenes from the past as if they were still happening, and we chew on thememory of whatever we just did. This glut of thoughts profoundly affects theworld we perceive and the life we live. A man who sees his mother in every womanhe meets can't see the women he meets. This one unnecessary thought lands him insolitary confinement and assures he will die alone. A mother who can't accepther son-in-law into her heart because he has "a lot of metal" (say, doubleearrings, a nose stud, and something rumored to be somewhere else) merelyattacks her own capacity to love and be happy. She doesn't change the son-in-lawand she doesn't eradicate her daughter's love for him. Yet this one unnecessarythought means her daughter will not have the mother she needs.

These last two are somewhat poisonous examples of what happens when we don't letgo. Yet throughout each day, failure to let go can eat up every small chance wehave to be happy. Just trying to write this page has been a typical example.

Weenies

About an hour ago, our son Jordan asked me if I could fix him "weenies the wayMother fixes them." I stopped writing and headed into the kitchen where John,who is now twenty, asked me if I could look at a business proposal he had outlinedfor his managerial accounting class. Gayle, being a banker's daughter,ordinarily would handle this one too, but she's at Trader Joe's buying organicyogurt.

"As soon as I fix Jordan's weenies," I said.

"Oh," John said, "would you fix me some too?"

"Yes," I said, through only gently clenched teeth.

Seasoned with my ambivalence over having been asked to stop writing aboutkindness and peace and actually practice them, the free-range weenies soon weresimmering away in free-range chicken broth—oxymorons cooking in an oxymoronwatched over by a large oxymoron.

So there I was thinking about how I wasn't getting to do what I wanted to do;wondering where Gayle and I went wrong if our boys couldn't fix their ownweenies; thinking it was a good thing we were on record against forcing kids tobe vegetarians; and debating whether a dead free-range chicken was morespiritual than a dead chicken.

In a sense, we all have two minds—one whole and peaceful, the other, fragmentedand busy. I was definitely in my busy mind. Just then I remembered Gayle's finalwords as she headed out the door: "I think we should say in the book, 'Make yourstate of mind more important than what you are doing.'"

Oh.

And maybe apply that to ourselves as well?

I have practiced letting go enough to know that it feels a whole lot better thannot letting go. Although my mental state wasn't too bad, it was not whole,happy, or at peace. Why must even this little bit of misery be endured? Whycan't a couple of small tasks be done happily?

My mistake was the one Gayle indicated. I had made...