The strangest thing happened while submitting the piece I had written for this topic. I lost it somewhere in cyberspace. Normally I would compose my blog posts in a word document, then paste it here. This time, for some reason, I chose to write straight into the entry space. Gone. Never to be retrieved. The inevitable and somewhat ironic realisation of the theme of my post. You see, for one fleeting moment, I was attached to that piece of writing. It was quite good, and I was looking forward to feedback from my redroom community. I let it go, trusting that it would arrive at my desired destination. No such luck.

I could try to describe what it was about. My Catholic upbringing, Friday fish and chips, chocolate binges at Easter, nuns sacrificing their lives for God. And then my discovery of Tibetan Buddhism, teachings of samsara, the karmic wheel and non-attachment. Learning to let go of expectation, and not being attached to outcomes. Finally, my big adventure that commenced last year, when I took the risk of selling my house, leaving my job for a year, and travelling to the opposite end of the world. Letting go of material possessions, financial security, familiar environment, comfort of home, friends, family and community. Significantly, letting go of a construct of self that I had built over the years. It was an unsettling and scary process. There were countless naysayers, those who live their lives in circles of certainty, while constantly thinking of 'worst-case' scenarios. And those who were concerned and wanted the best outcome for me. Essentially, I was glad to have let go of doubt and fear. I left with intention, not attachment to the outcome. And I have never been happier in my life than I am now. So what did I learn in the process? That we cling to these notions of happiness, success, love and fulfilment, yet they are merely limiting constructs of our minds. We liberate ourselves to be more of ourselves when we let go of these pre-conceived notions. When we hold our lives in the open palm of our hands and set forth into the mystery, we are truly free.

Of course, the original piece did not resemble that in the slightest. So here I sit, moments after midnight, contemplating a re-write. Or sleep. Acceptance. And letting go.

Perhaps I will write an even better piece in the morning.