Attachments.
Attachment is the great fabricator of illusions; reality can be obtained only by someone who is detached. The secret self knows the anguish of our attachments and assures us that letting go of what we think we must have to be happy is the same as letting go of our unhappiness.
~ James Finley
lent, 4 - shedding our misdirected appetites
I have a dim memory of a childhood story I listened to on a 45 RPM record. (Yes, I know that I am dating myself severely with this reference!) The details are dim, but in the story a caged monkey who found a way to jimmy the lock one night and open the door. He was a talking monkey of course, and I remember the sounds of his jubilance at this accomplishment: “I’m free, I’m free” he sang and danced. But as he stepped out of his cage into the free air, he decided to take along a banana for the ride. He reached back into his cage through the bars and grasped the fruit inside only to find that it would not fit through the bars.
The diameter of his fist wrapped around the banana just would not squeeze through. His joy turned to frustration, and he struggled and cursed to obtain the object of his intention. (OK, it was a kids’ story, he didn’t curse. But I imagine him cursing!) When the zookeeper came in the next morning, he found the monkey still attached to his banana… and promptly put him back inside his cage.
Morality stories are not generally nuanced, and neither is this one, but hey, it served its function: It lodged in my memory these many years. And it offers a perennially relevant picture for how we sabotage ourselves with the very real attachments we carry in daily life.
What do we attach ourselves to in the real world?
So many things! Our self-made identities. Our appetites. Our emotional programs to feel safe, good, and strong. Our people-pleasing. Our reputations. Our financial goals. Our insulation from the needs of others. Our fascination with youth. Our fascination with celebrity. Our addiction to entertainment. Our standard of living. Our possessions. Our image. Our need for approval. Our desire for comfort. Shall I go on?
None of these attachments are generally bad in themselves, but when we give them power, when we blindly come under the influence of their allure, we become their prisoners. And usually don’t even know it.
This is the tension and paradox of Lent: Part of us feels like we’re being pressured to give up something precious, and the practice of fasting from foods we like reinforces that illusion of self-denial. These sacrifices, no matter how well intended, become something more akin to penance. The more authentic invitation of Lent is to let go of the things that are actually hurting us. To let go of the banana that keeps us enslaved. Lent is about the will to be free.
Our wills are an interested part of our humanity, a powerful resource sourced from the intelligence center of the body (which I describe here as “thrust”). The term willpower, particularly, raises certain associations. In my spiritual tradition, willpower was mostly seen as negative—an illegitimate use of psychic strength in contrast to our legitimate reliance upon God’s strength. That can certainly be true. What is also true is that without access to our wills, spiritual growth is all but a phantom.
The will is the seat of our personal agency, a God-given force that is meant to be catalyzed in divine partnership toward holy purposes. It takes a great deal of what we might call “willing willfulness” to enter into this great partnership with God, particularly when it comes to letting go of these false props of appetite… these empty promises to which we attach emotionally in order to feel more safe and even powerful. Are you ready to bring your will into alignment with God’s desire for your freedom this Lent?
growing your soul
What unhelpful or overly-attached appetites are you experiencing right now? Can you see freedom on the other side of that attachment?
serving our world
Your freedom will inevitably cascade to the freedom and blessing of others. Imagine now how that might happen.
takeaway
Let go the banana.