Sunday, July 20th, Otaru, Japan

The Art of Letting Go: Learning Detachment Through Experience One of the most important lessons I've learned—maybe the most important lesson for anyone trying to become their highest self—is the lesson of detachment. I don't mean detachment in the cold, indifferent sense. I mean spiritual detachment—the kind that allows you to be fully alive and deeply involved, yet untouched at your core. A way of being where you can love without clinging, build without being owned by outcomes, and walk through the world with your heart wide open, but your sense of self rooted somewhere deeper than the temporary. **Where It Began: Seeds of the Lesson** Even before this trip, I'd come across the concept of detachment in books like The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer, and in Buddhist writings. I'd read the words, nodded along, even meditated on them. But understanding something intellectually is not the same as living it. I thought I understood detachment—until life began stripping things away. And it was in the process of losing what I thought I needed, that I finally started to learn what I really am. **The Puppy and the Mirror** Here's a story that helped me see it clearly: Imagine you get a puppy as a child. You love this puppy so much that it becomes part of your identity. You talk about it constantly. Your friends know you as the person with the puppy. You and the dog are one. But like all things, the dog eventually dies. You're devastated. It feels like a part of you has died. And in a way, it has—because you had become attached. You weren't just loving the dog. You had entangled your identity with it. This is the root of suffering: clinging to things that were never yours to keep. **Detachment Is Not Disconnection** Let's clear something up. Detachment doesn't mean not caring. It doesn't mean becoming numb or emotionally withdrawn. Quite the opposite. Detachment means you're so present, so full of love and awareness, that you don't need anything to last in order to feel whole. It means being fully immersed in the moment—but not stuck to it. You become like water—fluid, open, reflective—but not rigid. You flow through life without becoming entangled by every current. Imagine you are glue. You can help things stick together, build relationships, create beauty. But you don't let anything get stuck to you. That's detachment. **The 3 Levels of Detachment** As I've walked this path, I've come to see detachment as a 3-level process: 1. **Detachment from External Objects** This is the surface layer. Cars, clothes, gadgets, money. This is where most people begin. If your drone breaks, your car gets scratched, your laptop dies—you might get frustrated. But if your self-worth is wrapped up in these things, you'll be shaken to your core. When you realize you were born with nothing and will die with nothing, this level becomes easier. Letting go of objects is about refusing to let the material world define who you are. 2. **Detachment from Relationships** This one is harder. We're social beings. We love deeply. And we should. But when your identity becomes enmeshed with another person—your friend, your partner, your mentor—you risk being devastated when they pull away, disappoint you, or leave. This doesn't mean you stop loving them. It means you love without clinging. You support without depending. You trust without possession. You give everything—but you don't become them. If they walk away, your love doesn't become bitterness. It becomes compassion. 3. **Detachment from the Self** The deepest level. This is where it all leads. You start to realize: I am not my thoughts. I am not my emotions. I am not my past, my successes, my failures. I am not even this body. I am the one watching all of that. Most suffering arises from over-identification. "I am anxious." "I am a failure." "I am amazing." Even the positive labels keep you trapped. True detachment means realizing: I am none of this. I am the awareness underneath all of it. **The Ego Sneaks In the Back Door** Here's the tricky part. Just when you think you've become detached—your ego might start wearing a new mask. "Look at me, I'm enlightened now." "I'm different from all those materialistic people." "I've figured it out." That's still ego. It's just disguised as detachment. True detachment doesn't need to prove anything. It doesn't need to be announced. It's not a performance. It's quiet. Free. Invisible. This is why the spiritual path requires constant humility. You never "arrive." You just keep noticing how the ego sneaks back in and lovingly let it go again. **Trust and Surrender: The Other Side of Letting Go** Detachment is not just about letting go of what no longer serves you. It's about surrendering to something higher. You're not just stepping away from attachments. You're stepping into trust. Trust in the process. Trust in the unseen. Trust in the intelligence of life itself. You begin to realize: I don't need to control everything. I don't need to know what's next. I can follow intuition. I can follow love. I can listen for that quiet inner whisper. And that's when life starts to move through you. **How It Took Root for Me** For me, detachment didn't come all at once. I didn't wake up one day enlightened. I didn't meditate for six months and suddenly become immune to pain. I had to live it. I quit my job. I sold my car. I gave away my belongings. I left behind familiar comforts. I had to detach physically. Then I had to detach emotionally—from connections, expectations, people I cared about. I went on a trip around the world, not to run away—but to burn away everything that wasn't real. Even then, it didn't arrive all at once. Not in the first country. Not in the first few months. But over time—little by little—something shifted. Each micro-detachment opened space. And in that space, I found peace. **The Result: Living From the Inside Out** Now, I can be more involved in my work, my relationships, and my daily life than ever before—not because I've numbed out—but because I'm free. Free to love without fear. Free to create without ego. Free to speak and live from my heart—not from anxiety, insecurity, or the need to prove. I'm no longer acting from a place crowded with attachment, residue, or mental noise. What's left feels… true. **Final Reflection** You can't force detachment. You can only create the space for it to grow. When you let go of your grip, you realize life was never trying to take anything from you—it was trying to give you back yourself. Not the small self, filled with labels and roles. But the Self that remains when all else falls away. And from that place, you can walk through the world in total involvement and total freedom.