Attachments are the bane of the living. They come so naturally, so easily. In some ways they are our most natural defense against annihilation. We attach ourselves first of all to our mothers or fathers who feed us and care for us with a ferocity that is stunning. As children we transfer those needs and loyalties to friends and often carry it over to our partners as adults. Citizens band together, countries join forces, and someday I am sure universes may do the same thing.
It is our nature to preserve our fragile human bodies by joining with either like others, or greater ones.
I suppose it is natural that this attachment carries over into areas beyond physical preservation, because what is a body without feelings?
In the best of all worlds these feelings would only rise up like dandelion seeds in the wind, blowing out across the plains to reproduce themselves and never giving a thought to anything more. I suspect that if they only did that we would miss out on many of the great masterpieces that color this world with passions both satisfied and left wanting, because it can be the wanting that drives me to do my best work. And it is the satisfaction that produces my sweetest.
If only I could choose where these attachments took root and began to grow, life would be so much simpler.
It just doesn't work that way for me. It seems that some relationships have a life of their own and even though they are born gently and bloom magnificently, there are no guarantees that they will last forever. I tremble when I realize what I know is simple truth: what is born dies.
Yet that cannot be the deciding factor in the way I live my life.
I know there is more.
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