How can we walk with purpose, absent attachment?

We are encouraged to be purpose driven, to grind hard. But this approach has a cost. Is there a better way?

For some time, I have been pondering the question “How can we walk with purpose, absent attachment?” in the context of Buddhism (where attachment is the source of suffering / barrier to enlightenment), and my ikigai (which loosely means purpose). 

For much of my life I’ve been motivated by purpose, and a steely determination to get there, but I realised that that determination and approach can come with a cost;

Missing the treasure on the way…

In the past, I learnt that sometimes we are so keen to get to a destination, that sometimes we can miss the treasure on the way.

I’ve noticed that the British (a culture I was born into), have a certain view on timekeeping. Mainly that people in Britain like to be ‘on time’. Fine this might not be as punctual as German timekeeping, or as split-second accurate as a Japanese Shinkansen as it arrives at the station, but relative to my familial heritage, Sri Lanka, the British, love being on time.

I used to remember sitting in Sri Lanka, in a restaurant with no one else there, on a sunny beach, waiting for 50 minutes, for some chips to arrive, thinking wow ‘these people’ are so infuriating. When you go to Sri Lanka (and many other non-western countries) to a Brit, there is a lackadaisical attitude, where people seem to go about doing things, without a care in the world.

I remember being taught, as an Army Cadet, by a former Para, that if you’re late during a mortar strike, for example, bad things happen. So there is value, clearly, to being on time.

But I remember during my wedding, with a certain misery, that letting a schedule of important things run your life, is a great way to be miserable. At my wedding, it meant only looking at the little line items on our itinerary, with a dogmatic focus on being on time, to ensure there was time for the thing that was next, it was easy to miss out on a lot of joy.

Just like when I was sat, in Sri Lanka, frustrated about the delay of my chips, I missed out on the sunshine, the sound of the sea, and the menu items that would have taken half the time to prepare and been a million times yummier.

After my wedding, I realised, that unlike the British, Sri Lankans are always perfectly on time, for the things that matter. And you can see this and contrast the faces of the people getting the tube to work in London and the happy ease, that Sri Lankans carry themselves with.

The other thing I learnt here is that sometimes we can get so carried away with getting to the destination, we can forget to look out the window, and perhaps decide to stop or stay, at something even more wonderful we find on the journey (a little like how many years ago in New-Zealand I decided to ditch my itinerary) and just enjoy the many beautiful things we passed and saw, but had no plan for.

Focusing on the destination can kill the journey

I am not the first person to want to do difficult things and I won’t be the last. 

One of the things I’ve learnt is that we can be so focused on achieving our envisioned destination we might be so fearful of starting because we’re scared we’ll never get there. 

Fortunately, I’m a lucky person to not have struggled with this challenge too often. For sure I am frequently daunted and am sometimes worried about what’s ahead, but I think I’ve been lucky to find a way forward. 

But I have struggled with the second problem that arises from focusing on the destination…

That is when you are walking a difficult path, every minute you aren’t at your destination, or you realise you have to backtrack, it’s a frustration and a failure.

The only way you have to get through that kind of journey is with grit.

I remember once when I learnt to ski, I was in full Grit mode. I had put myself in an intermediate class, with zero hours on the mountain under my belt. I was the best in the group, despite being a beginner. But everything was effort. Everything was fight. Everything was being out on that slope to prove me to me. It was tiring. It was hard.

A day after being told by Babette, the 60+ year-old French ski instructor, that "I was the best in the group, but I try and think too much", I dislocated my arm looking after a friend, skiing hard in a whiteout.

I realised, whilst passing my ski school, and a horrified looking Babette in my blood waggon, I wanted to be more like her (glide down the mountain with ease and grace) and not hurtle down it like a possessed madman giving it everything he’s got.

Unfortunately, somewhere between being sworn at by a French doctor, who was putting my arm back and telling me that there was no way I would be back on the mountain, and the painkillers I was given later, I forgot the reflection for many years.

It was only until last year and, after getting very ill, for many months, I realised grit, can only get you so far.

It also makes the journey rather miserable. Yet we are constantly taught that grit is the only way.

As I’ve always had a sense of purpose, I’ve always tried to figure out how, as someone who grew up in a background of Buddhist teachings, I could help others, but not be attached to helping them. 

Not going to be all that helpful if I run from the world. Turns out that if all I did was push hard and burn out, I couldn’t be all that helpful either. 

I needed another way…

I found my answer

After a lot of soul searching, some good conversations, reading and research (a buddhist quote “there is no breather, just breath” inspired me) I think I found my answer…

“How can we walk with purpose, absent attachment?

You walk the path without striving for the end."

When I asked a friend my question, in my pursuit of an answer, he said “We live with an illusion that we are this body, the mind, and we own all that ,and we become attached. The same theory applies when it comes to people as well. , ‘My’  Dad, Mom, Wife, Kids etc. We need to understand that in truth, life is just a journey, we come ,and we go, and nothing belongs to us. We own nothing”

The path we pick (and there are many paths to pick from), gives us direction. When we don’t strive for the end, it doesn’t matter what hurdles we face. 

If we don’t strive for the end, we will also find joy, in the toil of life, and we will have meaning. If we are not consumed by reaching every milestone, perfectly on time, we will create the space to find what matters.

I also think, that if we learn to ski the slope of life, a little like my French ski instructor did (with grace and joy) instead of like my younger self (like a man possessed), we will be better for the others around us too. Perhaps a thought, I’ll write more on, some other day…

For now, good luck to you and whichever path you pick, I hope find peace and joy on the way.

PS: All my work is free to access (I don’t believe in paywalls). I write to share what I've learned in case it helps someone. If you’d like to support my work, you can subscribe here.

Thank you for reading, and have a great day ❤️

Dee.