Moonlit Mind #07 - Growing Without Grasping
I have done that in the past and I still continue to do so with my plants. A few of them that I have in my so-called terrace. I generally get very attached to them. A little dryness and off I am…
I need to be more sensitive now. I notice what's needed. But the moment I notice, I have to release. Because the moment I grip, I stop growing it. I start owning it. And what is owned cannot flourish — it can only survive.
Attention without attachment. That is the skill. I can be the most attentive person in the room. But attentiveness is watching. It is not holding.
The stability I create is not supposed to trap. It's supposed to give you the ground solid enough that you can leave. If you stay only because I'm holding you, I've failed. The people closest to me should thrive even if I disappeared. If they collapse without me, I have made them smaller, not larger. And that is not love. That is possession wearing love's clothes.
The tree gives shade. It does not ask the visitor to stay. It does not punish them for leaving. It stays rooted and lets go at the same time. This is the art. And it is the only way growth continues.