We build our lives as if we are permanent dwellers of this planet, forgetting that each incarnation is only a brief pause in a much longer journey. Every life is a lesson, an opportunity to graduate to the next level. In some lifetimes the theme may be work, in others relationships, but the patterns return until we finally take the hint. When we’re able to step outside the frame, we begin to see how our choices make the path easier or harder for ourselves.
Newton’s first law of inertia doesn’t apply only to matter; it governs the mind as well. Our thoughts love the warmth of the familiar, the comfort blanket of routine. We long for the next destination, yet resist the discomfort that growth inevitably brings. It brings to mind the Sufi story of the wandering mystic invited by a king to enjoy the splendours of his palace. The Sufi accepted the hospitality graciously, but at dawn he prepared to leave. Surprised, the king asked why he would depart when nothing was lacking. The Sufi replied, “Last night I felt your palace entering my heart. If I stay another day, I may believe it is mine. To move freely, I must travel light, carrying only what life asks of me, not what my attachments demand.”
If progress, material or spiritual, is what we seek, it requires a certain detachment from the present, for everything can shift in a moment. In uncertain times, the most skilful approach is an open mind, willing to learn, adapt, and evolve, rather than cling to a predetermined path. Attachments breed captivity; openness gives us wings. A fresh perspective or new experience can offer the paradigm shift we didn’t even know we needed.
When we hold life lightly, even our search for clarity becomes gentler. This is echoed in the Zen tale of the young nun who spent years striving for enlightenment. One moonlit night, carrying a bucket of water, she saw the full moon reflected perfectly on its surface. She paused, absorbed in its calm beauty. Suddenly the old bamboo bucket split open, the water spilt, and the moon’s reflection disappeared. In that instant she awakened. The moment the bottom fell out, the world she was clinging to vanished, and so did the self that grasped. Her realisation came not through effort, but through release.
Life constantly invites us to loosen our grip on the familiar so that something truer can emerge. Change is not the adversary; resistance to it is. When we travel lightly like the Sufi and let go like the nun, we create space for grace to enter. And in that space, the next step often reveals itself—clearer, softer, and free of unnecessary weight. Evolution begins the moment we stop clutching the old reflection and allow a new horizon to unfold.
