A Singing Bowl that broke
I told a story in class this week about a broken singing bowl — and what it quietly taught me about attachment, and letting go.
When it comes to attachment – I’m still learning to loosen my grip — and I have plenty to loosen it from. My husband. My friends. The community that has grown around our practice. The little book I’ve been carrying for years.
The right glue
When my singing bowl broke, my stepdad spent a long time looking for the right glue to mend it. The right glue. He turned it over, tested it, searched until he found the one that would hold and still allow it to make a sound.
So I sat with a question. Was I attached to the bowl? Not really. A bowl is clay, crystal, metal and sound. I could let the bowl go.
What I was really holding on to
What I was holding was the care that went into it. The hours my stepdad gave. The love poured into something small, so that it could keep singing.
And there it was — my grip wasn’t on the object at all. It was on the people. On the love. On the effort someone had poured into this particular thing, until the thing and the love became hard to tell apart.
When the grip tightens
I notice this in other places too. When I’ve offered something — a class, a teaching, hours of quiet work no one sees — and it isn’t met with the same care it was made with. Or when something is taken that wasn’t freely given. I feel it. The grip tightens. And my reaction to that, the holding on, is its own kind of suffering. I’m a slow learner and I’m still learning. It’s an opportunity for compassion and discernment.
None of this makes the love wrong. Love is the most natural thing in the world to pour into our offerings, our people, our small repaired bowls. It’s simply worth noticing where the holding lives — and what it costs us to grip too tightly.
What the caterpillar calls the end, the world calls a butterfly.
Keeping the crack
So I keep the bowl. The crack still shows. It sings a little differently now — and I like that it does. Every time I look at the crack or hear that unique little sound – I am automatically grateful. I smile. (Thanks Jack! – for being part of a peaceful ripple effect;)
What are you holding?
Bringing a sense of curiosity and kindness to — the thing you’re holding on to? And underneath it, who is the person, or what is the love, you’re really not ready to put down? There’s no shame in that at all. If anything it deserves to be met with compassion.
If something here is still gripping (those little ‘dog with a bone’ type feelings) that you would love to feel free from for your own head space (and heart space) that’s the kind of work that can be done with compassion inside what we call “co-meditation” or Mindfulness Based Self Inquiry.
Contact – tammy@yoga-nrg.com 0439418571 or
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