Attachment.

I have been aware of the Buddhist idea that all suffering is caused by attachment and have done my very best to live in the light of this knowledge. On the whole, I have been fairly successful in doing so. 

The one thing that I find I cannot let go of is my brushes, even when old and done I hold onto them like the good friends they became. I speak to them when painting and encourage them to work with me. We are friends.

For the last year or so I have been painting with an Apple Pencil on my Ipad with some small measure of success. Having bought a new Ipad and the person I gave my now used one did not want the pencil I thought I should offer it for sale. This is new to me I usually have somebody lined up and I give things away.

So my pen was put up for sale. I put it on sale with new tip fitted and all looking good at less than half the selling price of what Apple still sell it for. I have had one or two enquiries from people wanted to haggle over the price being asked. It was then I realised that this pencil was my brush for the last year, my friend. I wanted it to go not to a haggler but to somebody who would appreciate it. 

I had slipped into the attachment mode.

There is an account from a visitor to the Niagra Falls. It was spring, and ice was rushing down the river. As I viewed the large blocks of ice flowing toward the falls, I could see that there were carcasses of dead fish embedded in the ice. Gulls by the score were riding down the river feeding on the fish. As they came to the brink of the falls, their wings would go out, and they would escape from the falls. 

I watched one gull which seemed to delay and wondered when it would leave. It was engrossed in the carcass of a fish, and when it finally came to the brink of the falls, out went its powerful wings. The bird flapped and flapped and even lifed the ice out of the water, and I thought it would escape. But it had delayed too long so that its claws had frozen into the ice. The weight of the ice was too great, and the gull plunged into the abyss.

The finest attractions of this world become deadly when we become overly attached to them. They may take us to our destruction if we cannot give them up.

So is there anybody reading this who owns one of the first Ipad Pros who would like to make an acquaintance with my friend my pencil, he is looking for a good home the only charge being you pay his fare or collect him.

Have a good day.