Learning to let go

I recently attended a two-day retreat on Buddhism and the Twelve Steps. During the workshop, Kevin Griffin applied Buddhist teachings to his journey with sobriety in Alcoholics Anonymous. He related the Four Noble Truths the Buddha taught about suffering. The Second Noble Truth maintains that suffering results when we “grasp,” or try to hold on to, things we cannot control, follow craving, or seek satisfaction or joy from things that bring emptiness.

We had practiced meditation that morning, and as I listened to these ancient truths, I remembered reading a book during my youth that mentioned a raccoon trap. The trap is set by making a small hole in a log, lining it with several inward pointing nails and using a piece of shiny tin foil as bait. When the raccoon grasps the foil, it can’t remove its fist from the hole. If the raccoon were to let go, it would not be trapped. But the raccoon doesn’t let go.

After a quick search, I discovered that I read about the raccoon trap in “Where the Red Fern Grows” by Wilson Rawls, so I was maybe ten years old at the time. I was a tender-hearted child, known for exclaiming in distress at roadkill (or the occasional muffler on the side of the road when I thought it had been killed). I recalled the disbelief I shared with Billy in the story. Why wouldn’t the raccoon just let go and run away instead of staying trapped, feeling hungry, thirsty, and vulnerable to capture or death?

I see many parallels between the raccoon trap and how we all get caught in unhealthy behaviors, thought patterns, and vices. At times I have avoided close examination of my weaknesses by focusing on similar deficits in others. I have sought comfort and happiness in overworking, pleasing others, or buying stuff I don’t need. Envy and judgment contribute to suffering and are examples of grasping or craving the Buddha warns his followers to avoid.

Instead of blaming outside forces for my suffering, I can increase my awareness of the elements I can control in any situation. As I learn more about the role of emotions in human experience, I can observe and acknowledge my feelings and their impacts on my actions and beliefs. I can practice acceptance and nonjudgment of any shame, anger, or envy that arises. As my awareness of my inner experience expands, I can make conscious choices that align with my values and eternal goals. The act of acknowledgment empowers me to respond mindfully to my emotions rather than being controlled by them.

In Matthew 7, Jesus teaches us to judge not and to discern sources of truth “by their fruits.” I see the fruits of mindfulness to be increased self-compassion, heightened awareness, and practice in choosing the direction and focus of my thoughts and attention. I can use mindfulness practice when I pray to focus my intention. For me, the principles of Buddhism are compatible with Christian ministry and discipleship. Building on shared beliefs and practices broadens and enriches my perspective of the world and the many people who live here.

Self-control and choice happen in the present moment. I can move from a place of reaction and impulse to one of conscious agency. So, using mindfulness techniques or meditation to increase awareness strengthens my ability to recognize my options and make mindful decisions.

It requires a certain level of awareness on the part of the raccoon to recognize that she has been caught and that releasing her prize would also free her paw. My impulse as a ten-year-old, was to free the fictional raccoon. I wanted to save the animals (and the world). But once the tiny paw is clenched inside the log, it would have been impossible to explain to the frightened animal that it needed to let go. I wouldn’t be able to fit my fingers inside to coerce a release even if I could navigate the sharp claws and teeth of a distressed creature.

The letting go must come from within. Learning is an incremental process that requires intention and focus. I cannot simply give insights or understanding to another person because I want them to see reality through my lens. But I can be an influence for good. I can teach support others on their healing path.

Peace comes through noticing (awareness) and making choices that bring more goodness and light into my life. At the Buddhism retreat, I realized that my job is not to save the racoons. That I AM the racoon. And the only grasping paw I can control is my own.

Amity Condie has recently returned to full-time work and is striving for balance in her many pursuits. She enjoys the outdoors, learning new things, and spending time with family. She is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.