Upon the Flowing Waves: A Buddhist Approach to Letting Go
The Buddhists teach that life is like the sea with waves constantly in motion, sometimes drawing someone out far from the safety of the shore and other times gently releasing a person on the welcoming strand. Sometimes the waves are calm and serene, perfect for a relaxing swim and socializing at the beach. Other times, the waves are tempestuous and chaotic, the rip tide taking swimmers far from land. Within the Buddhist philosophy, recognizing all things as being a combination of causes and conditions allows a person to more clearly see his own role in life’s happenings as well as the impossibility of controlling life’s circumstances completely. Our actions have ripple effects but so do everyone else’s and the only constant is change. The sea is a liquid mass of these ripple effects infinitely catalyzing and playing off of each other. Too much attachment to life’s circumstances is thus attachment to an illusion, a mirage that suggests permanence in an ever-fluctuating reality.
In October 2019, I started working as an editor at the publishing division of my local Chan Buddhist temple. These Chan Buddhists are Humanistic Buddhists. I was delighted that my new boss would be a monk and that I would be working in a spiritual environment. I never became a practicing Buddhist, never taking the five precepts, but Buddhism did teach me something I needed to learn: how to let go. It all started with a pamphlet by the Venerable Master Hsing Yun entitled “Letting Go.” It was the first work I edited and by chance, it was the most relevant to my life as I had been trapped in a futile love for many years and desperately needed to let go but didn’t know how to release what I imagined that love could be. As I was editing, I didn’t think the pamphlet would resonate. I assumed it would go over the illusory nature of material reality and suggest the same advice I so often heard, which was to get over it. However, to my pleasant surprise, I was wrong.
Many people have a difficult time with letting go. We do not want to relinquish our hopes that if we hold on tighter, perhaps we can influence events in order to recreate the past, extend an illusory present, or obtain an imagined future. When realizing that material reality is ever shifting and that there is no sure way of ever maintaining what one desires since so many variables and fluctuations affect our mortal lives, we do better making peace with the flow of life instead of fighting it. Although Buddhism is associated with asceticism or a minimalist attitude toward life that most people struggle to emulate, the Chan Buddhists recognize that most people live the lives of householders, living in communities and forming relationships with people and symbolic acts, such as work or school. The Chan Buddhists recognize that we are all in different places when it comes to spiritual understanding and development. To be truly humanistic, the Chan argue, Buddhism must not only communicate Buddha’s teachings and model those teachings, but the practicing Buddhists must also help alleviate the real-life suffering of people, whether that is economic, social, or emotional. Thus, the Chan Venerables, monks, and sages collected the Buddha’s wise observations about the human condition, along with some of their own, and developed advice for those who are suffering.
As I was editing, I learned that those who suffer from undue attachment may liberate themselves from their pain by letting go, but my assumption that the advice would stop there was short sighted. Rather, the Venerable Master explained that to stop there, with only the imperative of letting go, wouldn’t really be helpful. It’s like telling someone they can get water if they walk twenty miles but then that person isn’t informed about the direction to take. Thus, the Buddhists formulated a plan for those who need to let go, a plan I observed as best I could, having tired of years of clinging to someone who didn’t make a sincere effort to be a part of my life. The things I learned from the Buddhist Temple and the pamphlet about letting go include: making room for something new, having gratitude for past learning experiences, doing inner work to facilitate real change, and then having the bravery to take the initiative when the chance for change arises. The Chan system has hundreds of maxims and treatises the practitioner, aspirant, or enthusiast can work through. There are also so many different kinds of attachments to process and release. Nevertheless, the advice I encountered in the booklet touched my life in a way I never would have expected or even dreamed.
When I started the job, I had to acclimate to a very different workplace. I worked on a strict, uniform schedule rather than having a variety of different classes at different times and places. I also had to learn the proper temple etiquette. I took my shoes off when entering the workplace, paid my respect to the Buddha, and ate a vegetarian lunch with the monks and other Buddhists. My workplace was brimming with books, and incense burned on the offering altar every day. Growing up in Los Angeles county, I was used to doing my hair and makeup before work. That may sound odd, but professional workplaces in Los Angeles county tend to be high maintenance when it comes to an acceptable work image. Some of this is a tendency within the workers themselves, but people in Los Angeles county and the surrounding region tend to notice the details when it comes of appearance, and everything from hairstyle to shoe choice suggests information about the wearer. Obviously, human beings are so much more than their clothing choices, but every region has its trends and norms. As was my personal habit, I would wear skirts and blouses with well-made leather heels with a matching handbag to work. To my surprise, the managing editor talked to me about how all that wasn’t necessary. She told me they only cared that I got to work safely. None of them wore makeup or dressed up, so I shouldn’t either. She said the only dress code was to make sure my shoulders were covered when entering the main temple. Most people would be thrilled to hear that they could come to work with no makeup in comfortable clothing, but I had a hard time getting used to it. I felt unprofessional coming to work in casual clothing, but the other women wore casual clothing every day. Sometimes they even wore t-shirts. It took months for me to let go of my regular outfit choices and eye makeup. Finally, I got it down to just the basics, concealer to hide my dark circles and tinted lip balm to hide the light Wickham striae on my lips (from my autoimmune issue). The Buddhists were all vegetarian, but they never talked to me about my leather purse. Still, I bought a non-leather purse in order to show respect for their beliefs. Changing one’s appearance for work isn’t that surprising. People do it all the time when starting new jobs. It all depends on the workplace culture they enter. Little did I know that this first act of letting go would foreshadow a deeper process of release.
For some context, I’ve always been the kind of person who had a hard time letting go. I grew up in a tight knit family with almost no divorce. I had plenty of examples around me of loving relationships lasting to old age. In my own home, my family members had flawed relationships, but they were lifers. Growing up, I witnessed many fights, but I also got to see my parents grow and find ways to overcome their problems. As a child, I was always shocked when hearing people had divorced parents, but it became so common that it seemed normalized. It is from the broken homes of this era that hook up culture emerged in the youth. Young people saw divorce all around them, and most of the young people I knew were cut throat when it came to break ups if they even decided to get in long-term relationships at all. I was different. I believed in the long term. I had a hard time with the idea of casually dating a large number of people in order to find the right one.The only thing is that the person I dated for most of my life wouldn’t take the relationship seriously, and I had my own imperfections. It turned into a break up/make up relationship; I would try to move on and date other people, but I could never go through with it. I would either change my mind, or he would start trouble. We spent countless years in this state until he finally left to date someone new. Before he left, he gave me a solemn oath that he would return to me, and thus I entered a five-year purgatory. His relationship ended after a couple of years. Meanwhile, it was clear he broke his oath. He offered no date of return even though he said he loved me. The ex and I would hangout periodically, and we would connect deeply like we always had. The cycle was a problem. Those of you reading may not have the same problem, but many people out there have had problems that are cyclical. Those cycles are sometimes the toughest problems to conclude. Recognizing this, I had a secret when I started working in the temple. I wanted to find a spiritual solution about how to move on. When I started working on the booklet “Letting Go,” I was astounded about the coincidence and took it as a sign.
One of the main lessons in “Letting Go” is that if we cling to that which no longer serves us, we won’t have room in our lives for something new. I had never thought about letting go in this way. I started repeating the lesson to myself every day, like a mantra. I filled all of my headspace with this idea instead of thinking of the past or despairing over the seemingly endless days of loneliness. Months passed, and I was starting to feel more optimistic. My ex lived 800 miles away, and he had a new girlfriend. I figured to remain emotionally attached to him would only lead to heartache. He came to visit his family and me during Christmas, and like always, I felt the same deep attachment, but I was glad when he left. Our hangouts became draining because there was a fruitless intensity between us. I decided to give someone a chance and get an official boyfriend. I had been single for around five years and had dated my ex off and on since 1998. This letting go was a huge letting go. I signed up for a dating site and finally met someone nice. We dated for a month before I decided he was boyfriend material. He was kind and smart. He was a quail farmer. I enjoyed his company. He was sincere, but a problem developed: I liked his company, but I dreaded even a kiss. It was strange because he wasn’t bad looking, but my intuition suggested that he wasn’t right for me. Thus, I had to go back to drawing board. I broke up with him even though I was scared of being forever alone, but I had faith in the Venerable Master’s teaching even though this new aspect of my journey was turning out to be difficult.
I realized that to truly let go and make room for the new, I had to move on to the next step, having gratitude for the lessons the past offers. When someone feels like Fate dealt a bad card and life has been a constant up-hill battle, that’s not an easy thing. It’s not easy to see good in the mistakes we, or others, make. As I was working at the Buddhist temple, I had to think deeply about the benefit of the sorrows that had extended into my 30s. I realized that I had years of relationship experience. I recognized that I knew what not to do as well as what worked well. Obviously, each relationship is different, regardless if it is romantic or platonic, but the relationship I had earlier in life was a long one, and I decided to view the experience not simply as a heart breaking failure but rather as the very best instruction I could get in cherishing love and overcoming adversity. When viewed in this light, I could hold gratitude for what I once viewed as completely tragic. I also felt gratitude because I realized that the old long-term relationship was not a happy one, and the breakup, however difficult it was, offered me a chance to freely enter into a new relationship with someone who was more aligned with me.
Still, I was alone and not really enjoying it, so I knew I had to embrace the next step of doing self-work in order to facilitate change. I signed up for various self-help courses. One challenged me to take a realistic look at my own personality traits and how they affect social interactions. I also took a journaling course in which I worked through significant past experiences as well as my future vision. Another course set me on a year-long journey of self-improvement. Through even the darkest days, I had a weekly challenge that helped me develop and grow as a person. I am still working on this year long-journey and find that even though the past year has been stressful, I am actually excited about my creative projects and what the future might hold. Instead of feeling longing and lack when it comes to relationships, I feel a sense of curiosity, and I no longer ruminate about the past. Letting go of the past has become easier not only because I have opened myself up for change but also because I have done self-work to the point that I have a healthier attitude about what could be.
Everyone’s love story is different. This is a saying I’ve been hearing within popular culture recently, and I love it. I think my enthusiasm for it is rooted in this journey that I’ve been on, one that has been difficult but has led me to embrace a stronger, more willing version of myself, one who takes positive risks, rather than being afraid, because I have developed trust in myself and in the universe. I have found peace with what I could not have, realizing the constant nature of change makes all phenomena temporary. I am still, in many ways, a traditionalist who believes in a one and done true love, but the Buddhist Temple gave me the gift of reenvisioning what it means to let go. I find in absence there is substance and potentiality, and where I once thought myself unlovable, I have discovered my own love for myself, something that can never be lost and that is in turn appealing to others.
For those of you out there grappling with loss, whether it be of a person, place, or situation, the advice contained within “Letting Go” and the other texts by Venerable Master Hsing Yun may be the very magic you need.
