Tuesdays with Morrie: An old man, a young man, and life's greatest lesson

by Mitch Albom

“What I’m doing now,” he continued, his eyes still closed, “is detaching myself from the experience.” Detaching yourself? “Yes. Detaching myself. And this is important—not just for someone like me, who is dying, but for someone like you, who is perfectly healthy. Learn to detach.” He opened his eyes. He exhaled. “You know what the Buddhists say? Don’t cling to things, because everything is impermanent.” But wait, I said. Aren’t you always talking about experiencing life? All the good emotions, all the bad ones? “Yes.” Well, how can you do that if you’re detached? “Ah. You’re thinking, Mitch. But detachment doesn’t mean you don’t let the experience penetrate you. On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That’s how you are able to leave it.” I’m lost. “Take any emotion—love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or what I’m going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you hold back on the emotions—if you don’t allow yourself to go all the way through them—you can never get to being detached, you’re too busy being afraid. You’re afraid of the pain, you’re afraid of the grief. You’re afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. “But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, ‘All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I nee...

I like the way he explained this. Feel it, feel the emotion and let it penetrate and then let go.