I’m doing great. I feel loved by those close to me. I just completed a silent retreat and was witness to some intense deep processes that took place. Yet again I experienced the power of silence and stillness, here in this beautiful place in Portugal. I feel blessed with three children in my life, as well as their special father and his loving wife. At times it feels as if I could burst with joy, there being so much to be thankful for.

But then I read a spiritual book about detachment being a prerequisite for happiness, and I wonder. Would I still feel grounded if everything were to fall away? Me, with all my words about happiness, who would I be without my role as trainer, coach, mother, blogger? Who am I without my loved ones, without my home, without Innersteps?

I am scared by the idea of no longer being anything,
having nothing to fall back on

I am scared by this thought. The idea of no longer being anything, having nothing to fall back on. It feels like wandering around quenching with thirst in an empty desert. Nobody who is grateful for what I contribute to his or her life. Nobody who encourages me to continue writing, because my words bring recognition. No lover who lets me know how special I am to him. No friend for whom my calming presence is comforting. No sister who apps to tell me how much I mean to her. No garden filled with flowers and whistling birds, which I can enjoy so intensely.

Is this what detachment is all about? About being able to experience happiness without having relationships, possessions, or roles to fulfill? Or greater still, that this is a prerequisite for reaching true enlightenment? Can you let all this go and step into life with complete openness? In a way like dying and coming back to life?

In whichever way I contemplate life,
I invariably come to the conclusion that it’s never either-or.

In whichever way I contemplate life, I invariably come to the conclusion that it’s never either-or. It isn’t about all or nothing. It’s always about and-and. Detachment doesn’t mean letting go of everything that is valuable to me, but (as the word itself already indicates) letting go of my attachment to it. Holding on to my personality, the love for another, my work, this is what I need to let go. The same goes for my thoughts and ideas, my feelings and emotions.

The people and things around me are autonomous. They aren’t my property or possession. Detachment means seeing that the sense of security I created around my identity, my ideas and everything I have in my life, in reality doesn’t offer any certainty. What is today may be completely different tomorrow.

I find true grounding in the open space of being. There I experience trust in the fleeting nature of existence. Someone who loves me now may meet someone else tomorrow. The child who lives close to me now, will soon spread his wings and leave the nest. Where there is peace today, there may be chaos tomorrow.

This forces me to return to the present moment
without any expectations,
but with all the passion I have in me

And I need my surroundings, my loved ones and my work to receive inspiration, to experience happiness and let my creativity flow. And at the same time I recognise none of these are things I can derive certainty from. This realisation forces me to return to the present moment and fully engage in what is there now. To immerse myself in the stream of life. Without expectations, without end goals, but with all the passion I have in me.

Exactly this knowing, that everything is fleeting, constantly in motion and changing, invites me to enjoy everything I love. To soak up the richness, the love from and for those around me, my great spot here in Portugal, my work which is in a constant flow, the person I am right now.

This encaptures ultimate freedom and happiness. In the incredibly open and constantly moving space of being. This is where I experience both ultimate peace and ultimate passion.