Squirrels, Separation, and Staying Present: A Dad’s Reflection
Last week, I wrote about difficult emotions and what it’s like for many of us as separated dads. We explored how we can awaken our senses to become more conscious of these emotions and find healthy outlets for them. This week, I want to delve into the roots of suffering—why it happens and how we can find freedom from it.
For many of us dealing with strong emotions, it’s often hard to decipher what exactly we’re feeling. Is it sadness, frustration, anger, or fear? Sometimes, the sheer intensity of these emotions can blur the lines, leaving us feeling overwhelmed and lost. I’ve noticed that even close friends, family, or therapists can sometimes struggle to provide comfort when we’re in the grip of these powerful feelings.
Perhaps you’re going through a messy divorce, with your children’s care and future hanging in the balance. You feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. Or maybe you’ve moved on from your old life, and things seem to be going well, yet you still feel unable to find happiness. You don’t know how to point yourself toward a path that brings satisfaction, and you find yourself asking, Why is this so hard?
The Two Roots of Suffering
Much of our suffering stems from two core principles:
Living in the past or the future, rather than the present.
Clinging to the idea of permanence in a world where nothing lasts.
Living in the Past or the Future
When we dwell on the past, we relive old memories—the good times feel euphoric, but the bad times bring a deep sense of sadness. These memories often arise unbidden, much like dreams, where you are always the central figure. On the other hand, when we focus on the future, we spend our energy planning, strategizing, and overthinking. We tell ourselves we need to pick up the pieces and start building a better life, but this forward-looking mindset can easily become a source of anxiety.
If we’re not careful, the past can drive our future, causing us to carry old baggage into every new chapter of our lives. Until we learn to let love—not fear or resentment—guide our decisions, we risk making choices that perpetuate our suffering. Even those of us who try to avoid living in the past might dwell on the future, imagining challenges that feel insurmountable. This overthinking can lead to procrastination, physical tension, and emotional exhaustion.
Ultimately, living outside the present moment robs us of joy and connection.
Children, especially young ones, live almost entirely in the present. If we’re caught up in the past or future, we’re unable to be fully present with them. I know from experience how much anguish this can cause. Being physically with my son but mentally elsewhere has often left me feeling guilty and self-critical.
The way to calm the mind’s pull toward the past or the future is to embrace the present and let go of the struggle.
The Analogy of my Dog - Nando
I was reflecting on this idea while walking my little furry buddy, Nando, this morning. Nando, a Samoyed, is a natural puller—strong and determined, much like the thoughts in our minds. I realised that the way we manage a pulling dog is a perfect metaphor for handling the mind.
When Nando pulls, I gently guide him back to the centre and keep walking. But then there are the squirrels. Ah, the squirrels—those sudden distractions that send him lunging with all his might, entirely forgetting the path. We all have our own "squirrels" in life: unexpected triggers, random thoughts, or enticing distractions that derail us and consume our attention. And just like Nando, we chase after them as if they’re the most important thing in the world.
The key is to handle these "squirrels" with kindness and humour. When Nando sees one, I don’t scold or yank him back harshly. Instead, I let him feel the moment, then gently guide him back to the path. The same goes for our minds. Thoughts and distractions will come—sometimes small and manageable, sometimes as captivating as a squirrel darting across the road. The goal is not to fight them but to acknowledge them, let them pass, and return to the present.
With practice, Nando has learned to pull a little less, and the same happens with the mind when we practise mindfulness. The thoughts won’t stop entirely—just as Nando will always have his instinct to pull and chase—but the struggle diminishes. The harder you pull against the dog (or the mind), the more stressed and frustrated you become. Let it be. Allow life to unfold naturally.
Even if you wander off the path for a while—whether chasing squirrels or lost in your thoughts—remember, the path is always there, waiting for you to return. The path lies within you. Trust your inner voice, even when you feel lost.
Nothing is Permanent
The second root of suffering is our resistance to the impermanence of life. Nothing in our lives lasts forever—neither the good nor the bad. When we strive endlessly to create a life free from disappointment, hurt, or change, we set ourselves up for frustration and misery.
This yearning for permanence is deeply human. We want to build something that outlives us, to create a sense of security and control. But the truth is, life is ever-changing. Many Buddhist traditions teach us to find joy in the present moment, to immerse ourselves fully in whatever we’re doing, no matter how small or ordinary it may seem.
Recognising and accepting impermanence lifts a tremendous burden. It frees us to live more fully in the moment and to embrace the unfolding of life, just as it is.
A Poem to Close
I’ll end with a few lines from
beautiful poem, The Journey (from House of Belonging), written for a dear friend of his going through a separation. David’s words are a constant source of inspiration for me, and I hope they resonate with you as well:Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
first, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.
You can find more of David’s work in his latest book, Consolations II. I highly recommend it for anyone seeking comfort and inspiration.
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