(And why it is never a good idea to get too attached.)

I have a theory about life. I hope you will indulge me for a moment while I attempt to explain.

See, we are all riding on the bus of life. But it’s not just one bus. We all have our own bus. Individual. Unique to us alone. And we are the only full-time rider on that bus. All alone we are. There is no driver. Well, no, there is a driver. But we do not see this driver and we have no idea where this bus is taking us. We can talk with this driver (as if we see her) and we can make requests or even give directions, but we’re never quite sure what is heard, acknowledged or answered.

In the meantime, other people are getting on and off our bus all the time. It really is a never-ending stream of fellow riders. But here’s the thing: we never know when someone is going to get on our bus and we never know when they’re going to get off. Some people get on and off multiple times during our ride. Some people just stay for one stop. Some people stay for an extended journey and we get to enjoy their company for miles of scenery and experience.

But the truth is, we NEVER know how much of our bus ride any other person will share. ANY other person. Not the husbands we marry, not the children we birth, not the best friends we make and not even the beloved pets who hop on and off along with their human counterparts.

We never know. And we never will. No matter how attached we become, no matter how deeply we love, no matter what we do or say, we will never know the duration of any other being’s co-journey with US, on our bus.

Which brings me to Buddhism. You see, attachment, to those blessed seekers of higher truth, equals “grasping” or “clinging”. It speaks to our natural inclination to believe that other people or pets or things or even ideas will bring us happiness. Fulfillment. And isn’t that what we are all ultimately searching for?

The trouble is this: YOUR bus-ride is only yours. You are the only permanent rider on your bus. Everyone else, all those comers and goers, are transitory. Absolutely every last one. So, the moment you become firmly attached, desperate for the satisfaction that you derive from the attachment, dependent on the security and comfort of that attachment, you set yourself up for pain and heartbreak. Because that person IS going to, at some point, get off your bus. Even if their departure from your bus is instigated by YOUR bus ride’s conclusion, you will ultimately finish your bus ride alone.

When I think about the people I love, I despair at the thought of losing them. I could probably crawl into a hole of worry and fear and uncertainty and dwell there (to my own detriment and theirs), languishing like some damn martyr, wasting not only my own bus ride but also their participation in its magic and mystery.

OR …

I can accept that everyone has their own bus and their own ride and we all merely crisscross each other’s paths in a random and completely unpredictable fashion. The best we can strive for is complete presence and gratitude when we are joined on our bus by those who bring us joy. And when, for whatever reason, they must leave our bus, we accept with understanding and grace that neither we nor they were “owed” anything. We were granted the privilege of our great bus adventure. We were granted the privilege of our most excellent co-adventurers.

For a time.

We have no control over the bus driver or the schedule. The route or our seatmates. So let us relish the journey, savour the scenery, appreciate our fellow travelers for as long as we are granted their company and accept – truly recognize and accept that THIS is the great bus ride of life. No matter who comes and goes, no matter how much you loved them or for how long, no matter how much pain their departure causes you and no matter how lonely you may feel without them, YOU are still on YOUR bus. THEY were never yours to keep. To own. To control. To annex or to attach to.

The Buddhists talk about The Three Poisons.

Ignorance. What happens when you refuse to see things as they really are.

Aversion. What arises from our desire to avoid pain and suffering.

Attachment. Our desire to cling to people, things and experiences.

The Buddhists, to my knowledge, never talk about the Great Bus Ride of Life. That’s all me. But I believe it is such a simple analogy for relationships and our existence on this planet. We are guaranteed nothing. The moment we decide we’re not getting what we deserve or life is unfair or we feel abandoned, we get sucked into the swirling vortex of despair.

I’m not saying we are not allowed to hurt, experience loneliness and grieve when we experience loss.  I am saying no matter what, YOUR bus is still revving. Idling. Waiting. For YOU.

Don’t abandon yourself and your odyssey.

Get back on the bus.