I sit on the boat I’ve called home, and it rocks me gently. I’m chilling on the back deck of the 1986 Californian Trawler where I have enjoyed stellar sunsets and glorious walks for the past 2.5 months. This phase of life is coming to an abrupt end as the clock loses an hour, as the rain starts to drizzle, and as the days start to fade into black, faster.
I did not expect to be here, and yet I did not expect to leave so soon either. This reality that I have created is a result of many instances of letting go.
I would not be amidst this beautiful landscape here today, had I not let go of:
practicing traditional medicine
my friends and family in Egypt
a marriage
my SF apartment
my fulltime job
Today, I am letting go of the boat as well. I have become so good at letting go. that it sometimes scares me.
What if I let go of the things that are good for me?
What if I can’t commit to anything now?
I ignore the grumbling in my stomach, along with these voices, and take another sip of my coffee, as I struggle to find the words that capture my meditation on impermanence today.
How do I capture this fleeting moment of ethereal beauty that I am living?
The boat sways to the right and I feel the gentle tug of the water beneath us, cajoling us towards the shore. The fenders “Thump” into the dock.
Constantly changing.
Constantly shifting.
Constantly moving.
My coffee sways with it, and it looks like it’ll slip for a second, but it returns to stillness.
The view is what makes this boat's life worth the many inconveniences. I see green Richmond rolling hills behind me and a wide blue open Bay in front of me, only separated from each other by colorful floating homes and white fiberglass houseboats.
It is so idyllic.
It is hard not to be attached. This whole harbor is like a beautiful woman that I want to make mine. I want her to take me in. I want to build a life here with her. I want to feel safe in her tight bosom.
I was so attached to that only a month ago.
I was so insistent that this was my home. This will be my reward for the hard times I have endured.
Then came the text: “We are selling the boat.”
My first reaction was to buy it. No! Mine!
My first thought is to leverage capital to twist the world’s needs around mine. That awful way we decide to motor against the currents rather than swim with them like fish.
I have to buy it, I told myself.
I know I can’t afford it, but I’ll be happy with it. I will be happy when I have it.
Let me make her mine.
It is not ideal for me, but…
I will make it work.
Welcome to The Monkey Trap
Here is how it works:
The hunter leaves food that the monkey loves in a closed-neck bowl that is just big enough for the monkey to put their little hands through.
Once the monkey holds the treat, their grasp becomes just bigger than the opening.
The monkey sees people coming for it, but it can’t let go of the food to escape. This gives the hunters enough time to grab the monkey.
If the monkey does not let go of the food, it remains stuck long enough for them to catch it.
The lesson here is this: Had the monkey let go of the food, it would be able to escape and be free. It is only trapped by its own need to hold on.
I feel like the more I let go, the wiser a monkey I become.
Did you see that view?
The walks. The lifestyle. The sunsets.The people.
The house with the backyard? The car with the leather seats? The job with the big salary? The six-piece stainless steel Japanese cutting knife? The iPhone 16 Pro?
The yacht with a great view.
But I can’t afford it!
No worries then let me find other options here.
Grasping. Reaching. Wanting. Desiring.
I saw one boat, two boats, three boats, and even considered living in a yurt just to be here. None of it was flowing smoothly, and I started feeling anxious about my living situation. I checked out several places in the city and they were either inconvenient or too expensive for me to continue working on The Human Dash and my new book (which I will tell you about soon) without spending all my savings on rent again.
Just leave the country. Go back home.
No! I need to be here. I love being here. I want to stay!
I am a deer in the headlights. The approaching car is the Bay Area’s cost of living, and my frozen nervous system is me holding on to a certain idea of what my life should look like.
I started to descend into unhealthy behaviors. My body ached. I woke up stressed in the middle of the night. I could not exercise, or meditate anymore and started engaging in my compulsive behaviors again.
I isolated myself.
It is amazing how one can switch from healthy to unhealthy because of a slim thread of a thought pattern that goes unruly and unnoticed.
I was so fixated on: How can I figure out how to stay here?
versus…Is here where I really need to stay?
That mentality of holding on to something till the bitter end is exactly where the monkey gets caught.
So if you are feeling trapped today - what is holding you back?
What are you so actively focused on, that you have stopped seeing the bigger picture?
How and Why to Let Go
Letting go isn’t easy. It means admitting that we were wrong and going back to the drawing board. It means dealing with failure and that icky feeling of self-doubt.
It may mean-
Depression. Derision. Disillusionment.
It may require -
leaving a job, or a country, or a loved one.
In return, you get -
Space, time, and a chance at something that aligns better with you.
Given that you already -
Have a strong vision worth letting go of things for.
“He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how”
Friedrich Nietzsche
For example:
If your vision is to have a family that is nourishing and supportive, then you should never let go of your kids or your marriage because you’ve committed to making this work. However, you could let go of a lawsuit or a job or an asset that is bringing in some money but is taking you away from your children.
Or:
If your vision is to lead a climate justice movement or build an app for that, and you are married to someone who does not believe in climate change, then your partner may be a more ideal candidate for letting go of.
You get the point…
This may all seem obvious but it may take us a lifetime to let go of some things.
Also to be clear, I do not offer any kind of advice or recommend you do any of the above. I am trying to offer perspective.
💡 Here is today’s better perspective: Controlling an outcome and refusing to let go of it may be constricting your view of the bigger picture.💡
Let go, but more importantly, let things happen
I don’t know if it is the elections, the lack of exercise, or the dreaded knowledge that I am about to move again, but I was feeling drained and depressed this past week.
Having become a slightly wiser monkey than I was a few years ago, I decided to just let things go.
Let the cards fall where they may this time.
I hear Goenke’s voice from my Vippasna meditation retreat saying “aniche ancihe aniche” … reminding me that the pain in my shoulders is constantly changing…changing…changing.
Everything that arises, will pass away.
Pass away.
I started looking for options and I did my part to check a few apartments and see what I might do, but ultimately, the answer came right to me.
As soon as I let go of trying to stay at the harbor, I decided to invite friends to the boat all week so that I could get myself out of the isolation.
This resulted in many people coming to visit me for lunches and dinners, and naturally, them hearing about my concerns. Amongst them was my good friend V, who changed my world with one casual chat.
“My mom is looking to have someone be at her house and live with her in one of the rooms she is in,” she said. “You’re welcome to try it out and see if it works for you. It is midway between here and the city too”.
Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. I did not see the place or check it out even though I’ve been looking at places all week.
The decision seemed so easy.
I simply accepted it, knowing fully that it was the right decision. That’s not because it is what I want in my ideal world, but because it feels more natural.
The interaction between me and the world now feels more like a fish swimming in flowing waters again, a surfer riding a wave, a sailboat catching the winds, and no longer a gas-guzzling motorboat trying to defy nature.
As I pack my bags and head out to San Rafael, Marin County, where I will be for the next period…
I invite you today to reflect on the following questions:
What is making your palm too big for you to return to freedom?
Is it really good for you or do you just like thinking about it this way?
Next week, I will hopefully settle down, and share a bit more about the health book and research that I have been working on.
I will have to let you go now,
Omar
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Don't rock the boat, rock the world.
This too shall pass! Best for the next chapter.
(Make sure to kiss the goats before you go :)
Sail onward and with joy on your own wings!