One of the biggest contributions of Hinduism and Buddhism is the teaching that all human suffering is due to the bonds of attachment we all experience—attachment to others and to material things. The goal of life appears to be to overcome our attachments so that we are no longer drawn, lifetime after lifetime, into the mesmerizing dualistic physical world of desires and suffering, the world of “maya” or delusion/illusion.
When the objects of our attachment (our love or passion) die, we feel wrenching pain and grief. The stronger our attachment to someone, the stronger the suffering we experience. It is at least in part to address and overcome this chronic, inevitable human suffering of loss, that the teachings ask us to put aside our attachments; to become “detached” from the objects of our desire.
To a Westerner, this teaching seems especially strange because what could possibly be wrong with forming strong attachments to a loved one or by extension to one’s beloved family and friends? The greatest values we profess, namely love for our fellow human beings and especially of family, would seem to be undermined by this strange and seemingly fatalistic Hindu outlook. If we look more closely at the teaching, however, it is easily reconciled with our Western values. What Hinduism and Buddhism actually would have us do is not so much to renounce our attachment to our loved ones. Instead, they would have us go deeper and see that our love for our fellow humans is in fact a reflection of our love for God. We were created by God and our loved ones were equally created by God, so by loving them, we are actually expressing our love of God. What the Eastern wisdom really asks us to do is to transfer our love from the reflection of its object–our loved ones—to the source of all reflections, God.
All creatures are subject to the dualistic laws of maya; their Creator alone is One and stands beyond maya. In the ancient Indian tradition, the older “householder” or family man departs from his family after he has completed the duties of raising his children, by wandering off as an itinerant hermit and mendicant carrying his begging bowl, seeking to break all his attachments. This extreme act of renunciation does not express rejection of his love for his family; instead, it energizes the transference of his love from his fellow human beings to their Creator and to the source of love itself in God. Perhaps for us modern Westerners, however, it is enough to love one’s spouse, family and friends wholeheartedly while simply reflecting from time to time that our love for them is merely an aspect of our encompassing love for God. When they depart this world, our love continues and eventually, after an intense grieving season that is inevitable for all but the greatest “saints” and mystics, it mingles with our more general love of God.
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