Life Attachments

It seems that with some frequency, I experience a catastrophic failure with my electronic devices. Any more frequently than ever in my opinion is too frequent. Nothing else can completely blow my plans for an entire weekend and sometimes even several weekends. If one crash isn't bad enough, I recently had both my laptop and my iPad crash at the same time. Alas, I felt maybe the universe was trying to tell me something.

Device Attachment
I try to prevent a crash and, failing that I at least try to prepare for it. I subscribe to antivirus software, run malware software detection programs and backup my data. I frequently check that all of these things are running as they should be. Regardless of my intentions, it - the crash - still occurs. With the sudden absence of devices, I am left alone to ponder my attachment to devices and much more.

We are often fed philosophies through media and politicians that encourage us to progress to a state less dependent on material trappings and embrace a more natural relationship with nature. On the one hand, I agree that material pursuits can be endless and leave us unfulfilled. Yet, I don't subscribe to the belief that we should shun the comforts both past and present generations have worked hard to achieve. It is ultimately a balance that I desire.

When I find my life suddenly over-dependent on devices, I know I have carelessly put my feet up on the technology see-saw, rode one end of it a little too high off the ground, and without warning, I crashed my butt smacking hard on the ground of device over-dependency.

Devices and technology in general have contributed much to my enjoyment of life in an everyday sort of way that I often forget to what degree my enjoyment is dependent on them. Can I go for a run without my music? Can I read something on a Saturday morning without my e-Book on Kindle? Can I ponder life's questions without Google and Word at my fingertips? All of these I can answer with a resounding yes. Yet, still something unsettles me.

Suffering and Attachment
I don't know much about the eastern philosophy of Buddhism. I know that it is often mistakenly categorized as a religion, partly because followers have a religious adherence to its principles, sit in meditation which is much like prayer and with some forms of Buddhism followers have a belief that so many hours of "practice" will bring them the wisdom to achieve their goals. Setting this aside, one interesting premise of Buddhism is that attachment leads to suffering. The inverse of this is that all suffering can be attributed to our attachments.

While I only dabble in these philosophies and ideas to cobble together my own understanding of the world, when my computer crashes it occurs to me that my clinging to a device has indeed contributed to my current suffering.

In Buddhism, an attachment requires two things: the person having the attachment and the thing they are attached to. An attachment is only possible when we believe ourselves to be separated from other things in the universe. By feeling unity with the universe and all of the things in it, we no longer feel a need to cling to things, but are free to follow the ebb and flow, the rise and fall, the creation and destruction of all things. Still, in some ways, because my devices were so inseparable from me, I suffered more when they were taken away than if there had been no unity with these things at all.

Social Attachments
I have recently lost touch with a good friend of mine whose wedding I attended in New York City two years ago. I have periodically tried to reconnect, unsuccessfully thus far. I know that he has an active and busy life. I see his postings on Facebook, but often do not know the context for some of the recent developments. I understand he has recently moved and I gather it is some distance from New York City.

For some reason, I still resist my own dependency on social media, yet it seems this is one of the only ways to reach many of my friends and relatives. In fact, I believe now in hindsight that planning a recent trip to my home town nearly four hundred miles away could have been made significantly easier had I announced this event on Facebook. Attempting to orchestrate a gathering of sorts between myself, three brothers, their spouses and children, as well as an aunt and four cousins through alternative methods was difficult and only moderately successful. Embracing technology, specifically, social media, might have been more efficient and less stressful.

Of course, the gaps in my awareness of my friend's activities are not due to him not posting plentiful detail. He posts quite frequently. Rather, it is because, as explained by my cousin, I am a Facebook stalker. I read. I follow. I do not post. I seldom upload pictures or links. I rarely “Like” anything, and I can count the number of times I have commented on other posts. It may also be several weeks between my visits to Facebook. An entire litany of events can have occurred without my awareness or my "following" any of it. My friends and I are connected, it seems and yet we still inexplicably remain out of touch.

Virtual Attachments
Cloud computing has become an effective solution for storing information. Even my personal blog postings will continue to exist in the cloud independent of my device crashes and even any personal crises I might have. My blog will wait patiently for me to reconnect to the Cloud when I am ready and able.

Restoring from the cloud has also become a great option. Yet, the cloud is not without problems. I still worry about privacy, security, reliability, ease of restoring and even my own access. Keeping track of the many url's, user names and passwords can be tricky. If an email changes, disaster is imminent without careful planning and foresight.

If I did not use my devices, but instead purchased hard cover books, wrote using traditional pen and paper and even if I purchased music on CD's instead of downloading them, these are still vulnerable to physical damage. These can be dropped in the bathtub or pool, soiled, scratched, lost or stolen. As well, it is more difficult to share with others when there is only one impermanent copy.

Sometimes when videos are posted to the internet, usually when someone has acted badly, the person depicted will seek its removal through all means possible, not wanting their bad behavior to be on display. Yet, as soon as the site is taken down, the video removed or the words edited, another site pops up with the original content. Someone, perhaps had downloaded it, printed it or somehow duplicated it. It is almost as if anything that has been recorded in some format by someone will always exist somewhere and in some form.

Eternal Attachments
Akasha is the Sanskrit word meaning "sky" or "space."  In theosophy, the Akashic Record is described as a sort of permanent record held in the astral plane containing past and future human thought and action. The Akashic Records are the original equivalent of today's Cloud. While some claim that these records are always accessible, others claim they can only be interpreted by a trained occultist. Evidently, not only does the Akashic records contain actual events, they also contain the collective imagination. So it seems, similar to the cloud, access and reliability to the Akashic Records is even less reliable or assured.

The Book of Life is found in both Christianity and Judaism. In Christianity, the Book is in a summarized form, only listing your name. If you are an unbeliever, your name will not appear and you will be cast into the Lake of Fire. There is debate over whether someone can lose their place in heaven and if so, whether your name would have ever been included on the list and blotted out, or if God, who knows the past and the future, would simply not record your name in the first place. Even though it is said that God knows his true followers and will keep and protect them through their earthly journey, for the  purposes of this discussion, the Book of Life is still rather useless.

In Judaism, the Book of Life is a bit more literal. Each year God studies each person's words, actions and thoughts to determine whether their good deeds outweigh their sinful acts. If the good outweighs the bad, your name will be allowed to remain inscribed in the book for another year. If not, your name will be removed. It is unclear to me what exactly occurs the year your name is removed and ultimately whether your fate is your responsibility or simply God's because he has removed your name. There is also disagreement to be found over whether the Book of Life is even to be taken literally. And, as still there is no mention of access to these records by anyone other than God, these records are not retrievable by the average sapient being.

Social Attachments
The weekend after my computer crashed, I drove the nearly four hundred miles to visit two of my brothers. The third brother unfortunately had to work that weekend. During that weekend we spent hours reminiscing about our childhood, sharing our memories, particularly stories of a family tragedy that occurred very early in our lives. Through this sharing, we each learned things we had not known and perhaps gained insight into how we individually met the challenges of life. Only by sharing our experiences did we gain this new insight into our past.

Telling personal stories is an art form I admire, but don't believe I inherited, nor have I been inclined to hone. Rather than knowing my ending when I begin, I often start hoping that it will come to me. It often does not. The details of our lives are usually less interesting to others, a fact I all too often overlook. My cousin on the other hand can take a simple life moment like leaving eggs boiling on the stove to watch Gone With the Wind in the basement and can transform it into an entertaining saga of suspense, surprise, devotion and laughter all included, and all for free.

Fading Attachments
My father suffered from dementia the last few years of his life. As his dementia progressed, his memories gradually narrowed and became more focused on childhood memories rather than recent ones. We were happy when he seemed to forget some of the more unhappy memories of his life. We were heartbroken when he forgot some of our fondest.

A short time before his death, we had a party for him with a few of his many sisters, cousins and other family members and friends, as many as we could gather on short notice. He could barely speak, his mouth tripping over the words he wanted to say. His mind seemed alive with ideas that he tried desperately to tell us about, resorting mostly to gestures. And then he would smile and laugh, which made me smile. Whatever his thought or idea, I was happy that it made him happy.

Shortly before everyone went home for the evening, my dad picked up the accordion to play for us. I worried that with so many people around he might feel nervous and self-conscious. The last few times he tried to play, others would try to sing along or play along with their guitars, but would finally stop it had become so difficult. One song would lead to another after only a few short bars and then maybe back again.

But that day with his family and friends surrounding him, he played songs that we hadn’t heard for decades. His fingers channelled songs that could only be stored in some form of sense memory. His fingers glided over the keys just as they used to. That afternoon, he tapped into a source unavailable on normal occasions. Just as he finished playing, he caught my eye. He chuckled with delight knowing that he was able to share this special moment with us.

A Conclusion
All life experiences are captured in our hearts and memories. The more we share them with others, whether it be through Facebook, blogs or personal storytelling, the more these will live on. While sometimes it seems that something really doesn’t happen unless you post it on Facebook or Tweet about it, the stories remain with us in some form or another. When we find ourselves too dependent on our devices, we miss out on experiencing life itself, which is really the source of all attachments.

So, with my iPad restored to factory settings, the operating system and applications restored onto my laptop and my personal stories restored from the Cloud, I decide to hit save. I press the power button on my iPad and close the lid to my laptop.

My husband and I take our dog for a walk around our neighborhood where trees are finally budding, tulips are blooming and our neighbors have deemed it safe after a long and harsh winter to finally plant their flowers and gardens. Later, we drive to a frozen yogurt shop for an afternoon snack, and I still have time later that afternoon to ponder all of these various things to post another blog.

Managing Expectations

As my husband and I continue our adventures of owning a dog, we learn more and more about dogs, but perhaps even more about ourselves. We adopted Sophie, a Catahoula Leopard dog as a puppy last July. We watched Caesar Milan the Dog Whisperer working with uptight people, getting them to loosen up and miraculously their dogs would become better controlled. We watched and we thought we understood. It was about them, the people, more than it was about the dog.

Then, why was it that our puppy would lurch and jerk, bounce and pounce and generally misbehave whenever any sort of distraction came upon our path? It was perplexing. We explained it to ourselves that she was just a puppy or perhaps just high strung. It was just a phase.

I had good friends come to visit for a weekend in March. One friend has also recently acquired a dog. Her dog sniffs and wanders on the leash zig zagging all about, forward, backwards and sideways. Abby, the dog, has no awareness that the person holding the leash has any sort of expectations of her. Having a stroke of good weather in Minnesota that week in March, I took my two good friends for a walk with Sophie. During the walk at times I found myself frustrated that Sophie was ahead of me. I would tug her leash, hold it tighter. Then, she would be too far behind me, sniffing grass like a blood hound. She bounced and pulled to go visit strangers walking and lurched at the neighbor's yard when we passed their yard, because sometimes we would let her play with their dog.

When we were back in the house, my friend said to me. "Man, I wish my dog Abby would walk so well on a leash."

I had been getting increasingly angry with Sophie over the behavior from her that I wasn't getting. She was learning when and in what circumstances I didn't trust her and how certain behavior would evoke a strong reaction from me, positive or negative, it didn't really matter. She was getting something from me during those moments of frustration and anger, whether I realized it or not.

When my husband and I went for a walk some days later with Sophie, I loosened up on the leash. I let Sophie roam ahead, sniff the grass, letting the leash out to the full six feet. When she returned back to my side, I collected the leash in my hand, praised her, and gave her a nice treat. When she ventured off again, I let the leash out a bit again. If she wandered too far or stopped, I would give a tug and say "Uh uh." When she returned to my side, especially the left "heel" side, I would give her big praise and, of course, a treat.

Tonight, we passed bunny rabbits sitting on the lawn, squirrels running up trees and even robins hopping along in the grass looking for worms. The leash was loose. Sophie might bounce once or even twice, but she continued the walk. She returned back to my side and I praised her and gave her a treat. She looked up at me and I swear I could see her smile.

How this actually makes any sense or why it works still puzzles me. But, sometimes it's best not to question these things. You just have to go with it.

This is the reason that Caesar Milan continues to have clients. They watch the same show, they see it and hear it over and over, but they don't think any of it applies to them.

My husband and I have an angel and a sweetheart of a dog. Going for walks with her is a joy. Rather than having trained Sophie, we have managed to train ourselves. I can't help but think this philosophy could be applied to other areas of my life. Yet, training myself to expect better things seems to be harder than it seems. Perhaps even the expectation that this itself is difficult is yet another expectation I must learn to manage.

Combat Parking in Life

After coming back from a lunch with a coworker in his car, he pulled ahead of the open parking spot and proceeded to back in. I hadn't thought much about it until he apologized.

"Sorry. Combat parking. It's a habit."

My coworker served in the military prior to coming to work for my company, as did an increasing number of my coworkers lately. This is not a new thing. I have had coworkers in the past leave to go into the military, leave for reserve duty and several who had a distant past involving military service; however, it is only recently that most of these coworkers are now younger than me and are returning from places like Afghanistan and Iraq where active duty means more than just simply and safely serving our country.

Combat parking, I understand, is parking in such a way as to allow the quickest exit. The time you may have to park may not be time you have to leave. The difference can mean your life. Therefore, combat parking is a difficult habit to break, even well after returning home.

Another coworker recently divulged to a few of us that he is divorcing his recently married wife. They were married less than a year ago. This was a second marriage for both of them.

It occurred to me that my divorcing coworker may have a life habit of combat parking when it comes to relationships.

I recalled a conversation a few days before his wedding.

"Well, we'll see who moves out. Me or the cat."

He is allergic to cats and his fiancé's cat was very old. The cat did not appear to be moving out any time soon. While he tried to seem like he was joking, his tone let on just how ready he was to bail at the first sign of trouble. In the end, the cat went peacefully. My coworker, it seems, did not. His anger at other topics mentioned early on seemed to become bigger issues rather than somehow resolving on their own. What he had envisioned would happen is something I don't know and could never now ask.

He did share that he still had been splitting his time between an apartment some distance away to allow his youngest son to graduate from the same high school. So, it seems he combat parked allowing for a speedy exit.

This made me think about attitudes about life in general. There is yet another coworker who threatens that she is just going to quit if things go a certain way or a decision is decided against her recommendations. Yet she stays. In private conversations she shares with me everything wrong on any given topic, my pick.

Rather than practice combat parking she appears instead to be dug in, sharing her fox hole with others around. It has become my habit to listen, to sympathize and more often than I would prefer, to share in her observations of how life in the trenches sucks. Yet I understand somehow that if I did not share in this way that I would become a target. Which of these choices is better I didn't know until recently. Only now I realize that when I join her, my misery is all the greater with only trench mouth to keep us company.

I have always believed in full engagement in my career and believe this has aided in my success, combined with a good measure of luck and hard work. If I cannot engage, then I endeavor to find somewhere else where I can. As a result, I have changed jobs more often than I care to admit.

Tomorrow is Monday and I look forward to work, even knowing my day's challenges will be great. When I focus on my job and the things I do well, I have far more luck engaging fully. It is only when I succumb to temptation and join my trench partner that the world seems hopelessly dark and gloomy. Life isn't perfect; work is usually even less perfect, but feeling like I gave it my all at the end of the day, even if I do back into my parking space from time to time so that I can hurry home to my husband and one year old dog Sophie  - this is really all that matters.