The tale of two rings (no Lord required) - moving on
I will start today with the story of two rings. The first was gvien to me by Clark, when we promised to look after each other, in sickness and in health (you know the drill), til death do us part. Unfortunately, we did part, and I a while ago, I parted with the ring. I had to sell it to raise money to come to live in New Zealand. I certainly felt more than a small pang of sadness as I handed the ring over to its new (temporary) owner, a lovely young man about to marry his (pregnant) childhood sweetheart. But I needed to sell the ring to begin a new chapter in my life, perhaps to begin life as a new me, not the wife of Clark any longer.
The second ring is a silver ring inscribed with runes, symbols from an ancient time that were imprinted on amulets and carried for good luck. It was given to me by a man who entered (and exited my life) before Clark. I gave him a ring also, with runes he chose himself. They were made specially for us. This relationship did not last, but I still wear this ring. Interestingly, I saw the gentleman concerned a few years ago on a visit to England, and he was wearing his ring also. For us, these rings did not signify our relationship, but ourselves. I have never seen the need to stop wearing it.
Buddhists believe that it is attachment which causes us our suffering in our lives, and that to unburden oneself of attachments allows us to enjoy a better spiritual path. I certainly wasn't feeling in tune with such sentiments as I forlornly wandered round my house yesterday having mislaid the ring. I began looking in the obvious places, emptying pockets, looking at every benchtop, but it seem to have clean disappeared. Eventually I went to bed, my mind chewing over a thought that since I am creating a new life for myself now, leaving something behind my like a ring from my past, was not the end of the world.
Nevertheless, I was pleased when I found it today, would you believe, in the washing machine. I have no idea how it got there, since I went through the pockets of my jeans, oh about 15 times last night.
I feel glad that the ring is still with me on my journey, but my heart does feel a little lighter at also feeling that as I move on, as if from one page in a book to another, I can take comfort in the knowledge that it is not not objects that make our history, but rather the meanings we make with them I don't think I'm about to encounter spiritual enlightment any day yet, but today finds me a contented soul, happy with my place in the universe right now.
