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Reading and Listening: On Equanimity and Balance
Attachment is never simple. Not for me. Upon meeting new people, I’m often a bit too intense for most people’s comfort. I’m not interested in small talk. Talking about the surface-level things always seems like a lost opportunity to me. I’m curious about people. I’m not interested in talking to people who are constantly projecting an image. When I hear a man say, “I can’t complain,” when I ask “How are you doing?”…I think: “Oh, nobody ever taught you?” Of course, anyone can complain…and endless complaining is in fact the opposite of equanimity. The question is…Can you complain…and make it funny?
My desire for deep attachment is both: a) innate to my character and b) a reaction to my upbringing.
Those who study pregnancy talk about how important the atmosphere of the womb is to the fetus. My parents divorced when I was a year-old. I know for a fact that the few years before the divorce were hellish. Filled with fighting and anger. I know my mom was in denial of how bad things were and I know my Dad was trying to figure out how to escape.
I was raised by an intensely attached mother who set steel boundaries and would not compromise…and…on every-other weekend, by an empathetic but often depressed father who had trouble with attachment in general. Whereas my mom never re-married, my dad remarried and re-divorced…
