Attachment to the world is a state of mind in which one is unable to free one's attention from being preoccupied with one's relationships, desires, possessions, fears, attitudes and opinions. Detachment from the world, on the other hand, is a disposition in which one can let go of these things without remorse or regret, allowing one to view and act in the world without the distortions that derive from our constant concern with our attachments. A pervasive example of attachment is our focus on making and accumulating money. We need money to fulfil our basic needs of feeding, clothing and sheltering ourselves and those who depend on us. But when we accumulate money beyond what we need, always desiring more and always fearing that we will lose it or not have enough of it, we have become attached to our wealth, with the result that our thoughts and behaviour are taken over by these concerns.
Most spiritual traditions in one way or another have warned of the dire consequences of being attached to the world. Buddha taught that attachment leads to suffering because so many of the things we desire are out of our reach and those things that we obtain can change or perish. Hence, detachment from the world, in the sense of not desiring anything, eliminates suffering. One has to separate oneself from one's desires so as not be harmed by them.
In the Bhagavad Gita we are presented with a different explanation of why attachment to the world is harmful: our attachments to the fruits of our actions prevent us from performing our duties in life. To perform one's duty properly, one has to be fully engaged in the process or activity at hand, to pay attention to what is needed in the present and not to thoughts of what may happen as a result of one's actions. If one is a teacher, for example, one's duty is to be focused on teaching. A good teacher does not teach solely for the purpose of getting paid.
Sufism teaches that attachment to the world prevents us from reaching the truth. Attachments are like veils covering the face of the Beloved or rust on the surface of the heart mirror obscuring the vision of the divine reflection. To experience the truth, one must be prepared to unburden oneself at any given moment of all worldly attachments. This in no way means that one needs to isolate oneself or abandon all one's possessions to experience the truth. Having worldly possessions and comforts is not incompatible with the state of detachment in Sufism. It is not the possessions that obscure our vision. Rather, it is our attachment to them—the desire to keep them, the fear that we will lose them, the inability to be satisfied without them—that forms the veils. Detachment requires us to be willing to let go of all these concerns, to be in a state of readiness to give up everything at any given moment without regret or remorse.
The state of detachment as described above may seem negative and self-serving without further explanation. One can let go of one's possessions, desires and relationships, even for a good cause, yet in doing so burden others while unburdening oneself. For example, a person who abandons his wife and children in order to pursue a life of solitude and meditation may create considerable pain and hardship for his family and others. Actions that are performed for one's own sake and that bring harm or suffering to others are far from being positive or spiritual, and are not examples of spiritual detachment.
Emotional connection to others is necessary in order for a person to function in the world as a healthy individual. We need to love and care for others and to receive love and care in return. A person who cannot form emotional relationships with others, and is detached from others in this sense, is in a negative state. Such a state is far removed from the state of spiritual detachment, which requires one to be caring towards others while at the same time prepared to let go of the desire to obtain or avoid a certain result or to retain things that by their nature change and eventually perish. If we are not affected by the loss or suffering of others, we are isolated and incapable of giving or receiving the emotional nourishment that is an essential part of being human.
At the other end of the spectrum is the state where our need for our own emotional fulfilment becomes so great that it interferes with our ability to love and care for others unselfishly. Such attachments are often destructive and can cause us to hurt those we love. An example of such an attachment is a mother who gets in the way of her child's growth and development into an independent individual because she wants the child to continue to fulfil her own emotional needs.
How then is detachment possible? How can one share mutual affection and concern and still be ready to let go of one's worldly desires and fears at any given moment? How can one be spiritually detached without causing others to suffer? Within the Sufi tradition, two fundamental experiences in life are necessary conditions for this disposition to exist. First is the experience of the transitory nature of all things, including ourselves and everyone we know. Everything in the world is in a state of transition and transformation. We know that the world existed long before we came into being and will exist long after we die, that we exist only for a very short period in a time scale that we cannot conceive of having a beginning or an end. Realizing the transitory nature of everything in the world serves to show us the absurdity of thinking that the attainment of our worldly desires is the ultimate goal of our existence. It is folly to be attached to something that we know will not remain as we would like and that we will in any event lose upon our death.
The second is the experience of eternity and oneness through love. By this I do not mean an experience beyond self of the infinite nature of time and the oneness of space. Rather I am referring to the self's experience of timelessness and spacelessness in moments of intense love—whether love of God or another human being or even an animal. When in the state of loving we are not confined by our perception of time and space, we are free from our limitations and boundaries. It is in such moments that all of our attachments become illusory and the only thing that remains real is love itself.
The paradox of detachment is that it is only possible through love of someone or something outside ourselves.
Attachment to the world is a state of mind in which one is unable to free one's attention from being preoccupied with one's relationships, desires, possessions, fears, attitudes and opinions. Detachment from the world, on the other hand, is a disposition in which one can let go of these things without remorse or regret, allowing one to view and act in the world without the distortions that derive from our constant concern with our attachments. A pervasive example of attachment is our focus on making and accumulating money. We need money to fulfil our basic needs of feeding, clothing and sheltering ourselves and those who depend on us. But when we accumulate money beyond what we need, always desiring more and always fearing that we will lose it or not have enough of it, we have become attached to our wealth, with the result that our thoughts and behaviour are taken over by these concerns.
Most spiritual traditions in one way or another have warned of the dire consequences of being attached to the world. Buddha taught that attachment leads to suffering because so many of the things we desire are out of our reach and those things that we obtain can change or perish. Hence, detachment from the world, in the sense of not desiring anything, eliminates suffering. One has to separate oneself from one's desires so as not be harmed by them.
In the Bhagavad Gita we are presented with a different explanation of why attachment to the world is harmful: our attachments to the fruits of our actions prevent us from performing our duties in life. To perform one's duty properly, one has to be fully engaged in the process or activity at hand, to pay attention to what is needed in the present and not to thoughts of what may happen as a result of one's actions. If one is a teacher, for example, one's duty is to be focused on teaching. A good teacher does not teach solely for the purpose of getting paid.
Sufism teaches that attachment to the world prevents us from reaching the truth. Attachments are like veils covering the face of the Beloved or rust on the surface of the heart mirror obscuring the vision of the divine reflection. To experience the truth, one must be prepared to unburden oneself at any given moment of all worldly attachments. This in no way means that one needs to isolate oneself or abandon all one's possessions to experience the truth. Having worldly possessions and comforts is not incompatible with the state of detachment in Sufism. It is not the possessions that obscure our vision. Rather, it is our attachment to them—the desire to keep them, the fear that we will lose them, the inability to be satisfied without them—that forms the veils. Detachment requires us to be willing to let go of all these concerns, to be in a state of readiness to give up everything at any given moment without regret or remorse.
The state of detachment as described above may seem negative and self-serving without further explanation. One can let go of one's possessions, desires and relationships, even for a good cause, yet in doing so burden others while unburdening oneself. For example, a person who abandons his wife and children in order to pursue a life of solitude and meditation may create considerable pain and hardship for his family and others. Actions that are performed for one's own sake and that bring harm or suffering to others are far from being positive or spiritual, and are not examples of spiritual detachment.
Emotional connection to others is necessary in order for a person to function in the world as a healthy individual. We need to love and care for others and to receive love and care in return. A person who cannot form emotional relationships with others, and is detached from others in this sense, is in a negative state. Such a state is far removed from the state of spiritual detachment, which requires one to be caring towards others while at the same time prepared to let go of the desire to obtain or avoid a certain result or to retain things that by their nature change and eventually perish. If we are not affected by the loss or suffering of others, we are isolated and incapable of giving or receiving the emotional nourishment that is an essential part of being human.
At the other end of the spectrum is the state where our need for our own emotional fulfilment becomes so great that it interferes with our ability to love and care for others unselfishly. Such attachments are often destructive and can cause us to hurt those we love. An example of such an attachment is a mother who gets in the way of her child's growth and development into an independent individual because she wants the child to continue to fulfil her own emotional needs.
How then is detachment possible? How can one share mutual affection and concern and still be ready to let go of one's worldly desires and fears at any given moment? How can one be spiritually detached without causing others to suffer? Within the Sufi tradition, two fundamental experiences in life are necessary conditions for this disposition to exist. First is the experience of the transitory nature of all things, including ourselves and everyone we know. Everything in the world is in a state of transition and transformation. We know that the world existed long before we came into being and will exist long after we die, that we exist only for a very short period in a time scale that we cannot conceive of having a beginning or an end. Realizing the transitory nature of everything in the world serves to show us the absurdity of thinking that the attainment of our worldly desires is the ultimate goal of our existence. It is folly to be attached to something that we know will not remain as we would like and that we will in any event lose upon our death.
The second is the experience of eternity and oneness through love. By this I do not mean an experience beyond self of the infinite nature of time and the oneness of space. Rather I am referring to the self's experience of timelessness and spacelessness in moments of intense love—whether love of God or another human being or even an animal. When in the state of loving we are not confined by our perception of time and space, we are free from our limitations and boundaries. It is in such moments that all of our attachments become illusory and the only thing that remains real is love itself.
The paradox of detachment is that it is only possible through love of someone or something outside ourselves.
