Detachment

Some of my blogging friends have been writing about detachment recently. It's something I've been trying hard to practice in my own life.

On my walk into work this morning, I was listening to s Stevie Nicks song -- Trouble in Shangri-La -- in which she sings a lyric that always speaks to me:

You can consume all the beauty in the room, baby.
I know you can, I've seen you do it.

How many people know people like that? How many people are people like that? My hand's up on both counts.

As someone keenly attuned to other people's energy, I'm working on my tendency to react, react, react to other people's moods.

It's like a pinball game. You're not happy? Let me fix it. You're sad? Here, I'll make it better. Feeling ok? Great, now I can relax...until the next emotional tornado comes along. Ping, ping, ping.

Detachment means not being such a sponge when it comes to internalizing other people's emotions.

And it also means not taking my own crazy emotions as bloody seriously. How many times have I let my moods rule a situation? Not seen the forest for the frees? Not been happy until everyone else was as miserable as I was? I've sucked the energy out of some rooms faster than a hyperbolic chamber. Less so, recently...but it has happened.

Detachment isn't indifference. Far from it. It takes a lot of mental strength. But I'm pretty sure I'm up for the challenge.