Burglars
Without a prompt, I reflected that several years ago today, a group of burglars broke into my residence in a Sydney suburb. I was having a whale of a time enjoying the Royal Easter Show with an aunt and cousin. When I came back at midnight, flushed with the delights of the day and company, I found the glass sliding doors of a back room facing the back courtyard had been aggressively smashed. There was the expected mayhem of scattered things and being trespassed. It was my only time of experiencing such a burglary. For months, they put the fear in my inner soul about the uncertainty of things, despite all our precautions, preparations and planning.
Maybe the thieves needed all that stuff of mine more than me. I wonder where they are now, and whether they do recall the owners of houses they have broken into. Thankfully, I was not inside the house when they assertively carried out their burglary. What they stole as physical things, another dear aunt in Penang assured me, can always be repurchased in a better model and fashion.
This morning, many years later, I realized that these burglars have inevitably enriched me in matters that count, rather than steal mere physical things. That incident has made me realize, with greater intensity, the temporary nature of things in general and negative feelings in particular. It has reminded me to exercise better the art of detachment, rather than cling to the traps of attachment. The burglars had imposed their will upon me, without a care or concern for how I would react. I now know better on how to draw a line between their imposition and my response. I am more conscious of meeting my own expectations rather than those of the burglars - and also not to let them intrude into my heart, for they have only intruded into my space.
In contrast, the stolen items were never recovered, the attending police having only superficially examined the scene of the crime 48 hours later despite immediate reporting by me and quickly concluding that the remaining fingerprints left behind were too vague. The police investigation led to nowhere.
I also ponder, when some people whom I occasionally meet carry on with their airs, promise things to me that they never intend to fulfil and ignore me the instant they feel they do not require my cooperation or interaction anymore. Like the burglars, they only think of themselves and their narrow agendas. I wonder if they are conscious of the negative manner in which they carry themselves and say things to my face. I try to understand if the verbal promises they make are only a bit of hot air or mere social talk. I am amused that they have chosen that path - and how blatant they can be in continuing to milk me dry instead of mutually nourishing each other.
I draw the line. I smile and minimize my dealings with such individuals. I then let go of my previous expectations and review my apparent attachment to them. I allow them the liberty to act as they wish and smile again when they get no answers in my reaction. I relish the thought that they cannot take from me anymore, but that instead they have unintentionally taught me to move on – away from them and their antics.
Things happen for a reason, I recall this advice – and how delightful an experience!
Maybe the thieves needed all that stuff of mine more than me. I wonder where they are now, and whether they do recall the owners of houses they have broken into. Thankfully, I was not inside the house when they assertively carried out their burglary. What they stole as physical things, another dear aunt in Penang assured me, can always be repurchased in a better model and fashion.
This morning, many years later, I realized that these burglars have inevitably enriched me in matters that count, rather than steal mere physical things. That incident has made me realize, with greater intensity, the temporary nature of things in general and negative feelings in particular. It has reminded me to exercise better the art of detachment, rather than cling to the traps of attachment. The burglars had imposed their will upon me, without a care or concern for how I would react. I now know better on how to draw a line between their imposition and my response. I am more conscious of meeting my own expectations rather than those of the burglars - and also not to let them intrude into my heart, for they have only intruded into my space.
In contrast, the stolen items were never recovered, the attending police having only superficially examined the scene of the crime 48 hours later despite immediate reporting by me and quickly concluding that the remaining fingerprints left behind were too vague. The police investigation led to nowhere.
I also ponder, when some people whom I occasionally meet carry on with their airs, promise things to me that they never intend to fulfil and ignore me the instant they feel they do not require my cooperation or interaction anymore. Like the burglars, they only think of themselves and their narrow agendas. I wonder if they are conscious of the negative manner in which they carry themselves and say things to my face. I try to understand if the verbal promises they make are only a bit of hot air or mere social talk. I am amused that they have chosen that path - and how blatant they can be in continuing to milk me dry instead of mutually nourishing each other.
I draw the line. I smile and minimize my dealings with such individuals. I then let go of my previous expectations and review my apparent attachment to them. I allow them the liberty to act as they wish and smile again when they get no answers in my reaction. I relish the thought that they cannot take from me anymore, but that instead they have unintentionally taught me to move on – away from them and their antics.
Things happen for a reason, I recall this advice – and how delightful an experience!
Comments