Navigating Attachment and Heartache

Dear all,

Hope you are all well and Happy belated New Year. I’m having a heck of a 2024. As someone who tries to practice Buddhism, as well as I can, I’ve been thinking a lot about non-attachment. It’s the idea that we don’t affix our emotions onto things, people, animals, and worldly concerns. I’m not very good at it.

I’ve been trying to focus on a book tour while my heart breaks over the deaths of innocent civilians in the Middle East. It started on October 7 with the Hamas attack and continues with ongoing Israeli retaliation. I recently read there are no longer any hospitals in Gaza, when only three months ago there were thirty-six. People are suffering, starving, and living in unimaginable circumstances. I pray for a cease fire every day and for the release of hostages. I can’t shake a horrible feeling. As someone who studies extremism, I watch these events with an understanding that suffering creates hatred and generational trauma. I’m haunted by the Gaza of today and of the future.

I also have grief on the home front as well. Our beloved dog Steve, the eldest of our three, has an inoperable, metastasizing, cancerous tumor between his heart and lung. I’m incredibly, wholeheartedly attached to this dog, no matter how much I aspire to the tenets of Buddhism. We have put him on Palladia, a dog anti-cancer drug, and we’ll see if it can slow down the tumor’s growth.

Success and sorrow are both things that Buddhists try not to hold onto. Non-attachment allows for adaptability and freedom under both difficult and favorable circumstances. But I do hold loved ones tight, and I do anguish over the loss of innocent life. I also am very bound to my responsibilities as a writer, researcher, and historian. I celebrate these roles and appreciate success.

Which brings me to another attachment I’m having trouble shaking. I recently made an error that hurt a friend I admire greatly. I was asked by a wonderful writer and cultural critic to answer questions about my book and in considering these questions, I misrepresented this friend. It was a mistake, and got corrected online, but it hurt him in a way that touched on deep generational pain. I really struggle with non-attachment when I’ve hurt someone. I felt aggrieved. The experience was a reminder of my professional obligation to accuracy and sensitivity. I vow to work with even more care.

It is so hard to practice non-attachment. To not sorrow over the tens of thousands of people who have been killed. To not ache over my sweet eight-year-old dog. To not feel distress over a careless and wounding error. To not over relish the launch of a new book. I am swimming in attachment.

Yet, I will continue to breathe. To reflect. To not center myself in situations. I will remain open hearted and forward facing. I will do the best I can.

Very warmly,

Betsy