Spring has arrived and this year I am determined to do a top to bottom spring cleaning of my house. Spring cleaning involves not only wiping down walls, clearing the cobwebs, packing away the winter blankets, but also getting rid of items no longer used or needed. Getting rid of things involves letting go. I have been dealing with the concept of “letting go” for the last several years and it is not as easy as it sounds. Attachment has a firm hold on me. I tend to form attachments to those things that please me, make me feel good, and help get me through the day. Attachment can lead to a hobby or the hobby can lead to the attachment. What I didn’t realize was attachment often involves emotions-negative and positive.
Four years ago, my son died unexpectedly. He was 37 years old and left three little girls without a father. Those that were close to him had no idea that on a sunny summer July day, he would call off work, run errands, then take his own life. No note, no phone calls or texting- no explanation.
At first, I was in shock, then the guilt took over along with the sadness and tears. I became so attached to those emotions that engulfed me, I couldn’t let them go. In my mind, letting go of the grief, meant forgetting my son and the one thing I didn’t want to do was to forget him.
A few months ago, when replacing candles on my alter, I found a box of tea light candles my son made after his first daughter was born. I remember the day clearly when he called to tell me all about his idea. He discussed creating an online business and candle making was his start-up. He was excited as he talked about how he would expand into votive and pillar candles and he wanted to make a quality product, something that would bring pride. Most importantly, he wanted a hobby he could one day share with his young daughters.
He began with the tea lights, nine beautiful candles in a see-through box tied with a perfect little bow made of jute. So many colors and fragrances and he named each and every one. Names like beach linen, sunset, bird of paradise, and meadow. I wanted to pack them away, I couldn’t let go of a single one. On my alter I used plain white tea candles and or even the fake plastic GED ones from the dollar store. Not much of an offering. It was then that I realized only my son’s candles would be a true offering, one from the heart. It was time to let go, of the guilt, the pain, and the grief. Using my son’s tea candles would help guide me by lighting the way to truly understanding the meaning of non-attachment.
What does this have to do with Spring cleaning? Once my house is wiped away of the past year’s summer pollen, autumn decay, and winter dust, I open all the windows to let in the fresh air. Non-attachment, to me, is like opening the windows of my mind and my heart and letting in the compassion and wisdom to help clear out all those afflicted emotions that once held me back.
I will save three of the candles for his little girls and when they are a bit older, we will place them on my alter and light them chanting a mantra and with a smile, we will say a prayer in his memory. Letting go does not mean forgetting.
