Please don’t tell me to let it go.
If I can, I will.
When I can’t, the advice won’t be helpful or appreciated.
People will continue to say it, though. Understanding that the advice aims to provide comfort, I covertly transform it into a question: Is there any way to loosen your grip on this a bit?
I can't force myself not to care about important circumstances, but I have learned to scale down and let observable sensations pass at their own pace.
Here’s the most effective way I’ve ever learned to do this.
Observe impermanence
When we are worried about something, we know that "this too shall pass," but we can’t know how long it will take or when the difficulty will be over.
Trying to endure what’s happening leads to constantly waiting for a more comfortable version of our lives to arrive. Even when that comfortable version does arrive, it will pass as well.
It’s counterintuitive, but shifting our focus to notice “this too is passing,” as Shinzen Young wisely encourages, helps weaken our resistance to discomfort and enriches our experience of comfort, as both possibilities continuously ebb and flow.1
Observe the passing itself
Once you start looking for it, observable change is everywhere, including in our sights and sounds, tastes, smells, thoughts, and feelings. We can take breaks from the narrative perspective of human experience. Paying closer attention to the underlying flux can be surprisingly comforting, if only for a few seconds at a time. The ability to shift modes improves with practice.
Whenever it rains, I remember this passage from poet and memoirist Nick Flynn2:
“Thich Nhat Hahn says it is a mistake to say, ‘The rain is falling,’ to say, ‘The wind is blowing.’
What is rain if it is not falling? he asks. What is wind if it is not blowing?
The falling is the rain, the blowing is the wind.
He’s talking about impermanence.”
Becoming fascinated by ever-present fluctuations won’t change unpleasant moments into pleasant ones, but it can teach us to loosen our internal grip on uncertainty, making it feel more inhabitable and alive.
Exercise
This exercise sharpens your ability to focus on ordinary sensations and perceptions by observing when they come to an end.
Circumstances for learning this attention exercise
watching a sunset
falling asleep
grieving
Settle into practice. Take a minute to observe your body’s physical and emotional sensations. This can include your energy level, mood, hunger, fullness, and both comfortable and uncomfortable sensations. Try to feel what you’re feeling without labeling it as good or bad.
Get curious about the sensations related to your breathing. Focus your attention on the movement you feel with each breath. Stay with the sensations of each exhalation until it reaches its endpoint. When you're ready, do the same for each inhalation until it comes to an end.
Expand your awareness to notice endings in your surroundings. If a sound catches your attention, observe when it fades away. If your eyes are open and something passes through your field of vision, note when it is no longer visible.
Instead of trying to push away thoughts or images in your mind, try to catch them as they dissipate. Mental activity often tends to withdraw when noticed. Explore this by allowing thoughts to suddenly disappear.
The goal of this attention exercise is to practice witnessing when perceptions fade away. Think of it as a recipe, and feel free to customize it to suit your needs. You can choose which sensory categories to include.
There are many ways to do this one effectively, but simply noticing when your exhales end is sufficient. You can always use this as a reliable core anchor. Expand to observe other sensations ending when you're ready.
Take this practice into your daily life. Whenever you remember, focus on the sound of a dog barking or a child laughing until the sounds fade away.
Notice when a favorite song drifts back into silence.
Try to be aware of when the afternoon transitions or how you feel at the end of a chapter in a book or an episode of a series.
While enjoying a snack or a meal, watch the food gradually dwindle before your eyes. This can enhance your experience of savoring that final bite.
Daily life is packed with endings, but most of them go unnoticed.
Notice some of them.
From "Burnt Norton"
by T.S. Eliot, from Collected Poems, 1909-1962
From "Burnt Norton" by T.S. Eliot At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
Hear the poet recite the entire poem.
“The Power of Gone,” Tricycle Magazine, Fall 2012.
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