Addiction
According to Wikipedia, the be all end all of the internet….
“Serial monogamy is described as a societal mating practice in which individuals engage in sequential monogamous pairings, or in terms of humans, when men or women marry another partner sequentially. However, one does not need to marry in order to be considered as practicing serial monogamy, as it can also be defined by multiple pair-bonding, or having had more than one mate.”
For me personally, serial monogamy is an emotional form of addiction, a compulsive behavior whose constructs steer the person affected by keeping them running on a hamster wheel of loneliness and needing others to feed a hunger that will never be satisfied. It’s a constantly revisited dead end road for the perpetually broken-hearted. In Buddhism terms this it would be referred to as desirous attachment. “Desirous attachment is a deluded mental factor that observes its contaminated object, regards it as a cause of happiness, and wishes for it” (source).
Abandonment
I’ve come a long way since I started counseling in my early 20s (I’m 38 now). But it wasn’t until my divorce in 2008 and another important/meaningful relationship of almost two years that ended late in 2012 that I realized it was time to face something I’ve avoided dealing with in full since I was a child. I believe this is why I got married so young and have struggled so hard at being single and happy since my divorce.
In the past 5-6 years I’ve been challenged by the issue of abandonment at a level that takes me to that horribly uncomfortable place where the last major fragments of my childhood fear, low self-esteem, co-dependency and an irrational state of loneliness are all hanging out together getting tanked at the bar at the Inn of Dysfunction, planning and scheming their next move on those of us afflicted by it.
Fear of abandonment is a very complex beast. It draws its energy from all of your insecurities and recharges itself like a car battery. The longer it’s running the stronger it gets. It stops you from letting go of the past. It distracts you from enjoying the present. It pounds coffin nails into the doors of personal growth and opportunity that would otherwise be your healthier, more centered and prosperous future.
To put it plainly, it sucks.
It sucks the life and times out of you and those around you. It distorts the meaningful relationships you do have and sabotages the ones you could’ve had down the road that might have been great.
Abandonment is commonplace for those who’s childhood environments were influenced by parents suffering from various addictive behavior (drugs, alcohol or other compulsions), co-dependency, and in my case, too many big changes without effective communication and nurturing during tough times. Pair all that up with my deep emotional/analytical brain and complex personality and you have a potential life of loneliness and emotional exhaustion, all of which are entirely in my own mind. The great news is that it’s effect on one’s life is completely changeable with a few tweaks and some hard work.
Reprogramming and resolve
There’s a very thin line between “living in the past” (emotional, conscious) and living by old behavioral patterns (instinctual, subconscious). Surrounded by a healthy circle of spiritual friends and a desire to be a strong centered role model for my sons, I’ve done a lot of work on myself over the last decade and a half in terms of forgiveness, letting go, converting anger and resentment into love, understanding and empathy for those that had hurt me in the past. Now it’s time to take it further.
There’s no magic bullet for stuff like this, no pill that can be swallowed where you wake up the next morning and you are a different person. It’s a process. As a friend once told me recently, it’s all about progress not perfection. With issues like this you need to take time to deprogram the patterns of the past and then reprogram who you are from the ground up, establishing a cleaner, healthier view of what it means to be in a relationship and why you should be in one in the first place (if at all). To be alone is not to be lonely……this is the TRUTH and a concept I’ve never known. At this point in my life I couldn’t be more excited to take this on, to feel what it’s like to wake up in the morning and only think about how killer my day is gonna be and not “who should I pursue for a potential relationship, friend or otherwise.”
They say the only way to cure a phobia is dive right into the problem head first and face it. I’ve realized I can’t change this stuff permanently for the better unless I’m actually in the problem environment: being single. You can’t work on an issue like this one unless force yourself to experience all of the pain and lack of comfort that comes with it. You gotta stop using the drug and get through withdrawal before you can be sober right? My first priority is to move through and reshape what it means to “just be” without a partner, to learn how to not have a partner without feeling abandoned and insecure. The process of teaching myself to not be in a relationship without it feeling like I’m about to fall off a cliff is new to me BUT I realize that state is not a real or tangible one. It’s all just in my head. Patterns from the past. Thankfully I have all the right tools, books, friends to help me be successful during this time.
Onward.

















Zen: A westerner’s struggle
I grew up in a very stereotypical conservative Christian household, immersed in fundamentalist republican thought, where my all-or-nothing personality tendencies were fused with a narrow minded version of a right-wing agenda. I was told to view everything and everyone under one very specific scope. There was little room for change or acceptance of those different than me, my family, or our family’s like-minded social circle.
The internal conflict I was feeling from my upbringing versus how I felt about people however plagued me for years. My nature was to care about and love everyone equally, but my upbringing encouraged judgement and harsh criticism of people, places, other spiritual paths, and cultures I literally knew nothing about. It created in me a very distorted view of the world and of everyone around me. I lived most of my adult life that way, spewing countless unsubstantiated opinions about topics I really knew nothing about.
It wasn’t until 9/11 that I started to realize, “Oh, we are all in this together, you know…..the humans.” It was the catalyst for one of the biggest paradigm shifts in my life. Something started to change in me. I realized how little I knew about world history, conflict and other cultures. I almost felt like I had to start over in my approach to everything. Spiritually, I now needed a new set of answers, more reference, a more expansive set of information with different points of view attached to it. I needed a new outlook that focused less on humanitarian fractures created by people’s differences and more on the potential unity cultivated by our similarities as a species.
In Buddhism, I found just that.
The quest for peace
Fast forward to 2008, during my divorce, I got a hold of a book called “Storms Can’t Hurt The Sky: A Buddhist Path Through Divorce.“ by Gabriel Cohen. As someone who brought only a history of the skewed version of Christianity to the table, I was skeptical about this book but I was in so much emotional pain at the time that I was grasping for any new answers that I hadn’t heard before, new ideas presented to me in a way that I could understand immediately. This was a very tall order given the thunderstorm of an emotional state I was in at the time.
I hesitated when first opening this book. I feared that my programmed instincts about right and wrong, everything I had been taught to believe, would be revealed to me as off the mark. I feared that my spiritual background was all just a smeared farce built on a foundation of personal insecurities and a prescribed path full of side effects, passed on to me by my loving, well-intentioned, yet incredibly insecure parental units (God bless them). I worried this book would reveal how clueless I actually was.
I opened up the book…..chapter 1, page 1, sentence 1….I was hooked.
I was blown away by how simple Buddhist principles and ideals were. I still believed in God, very much so, but there wasn’t anything in this book that I could find fault with. In fact, if you strip away all the rhetoric that humans have attached to modern day Christianity, leaving only the good stuff – peace, love, forgiveness and living a life of service to others – at the core, you’ll find Buddhism in the same sandbox.
I started reading other books and learned a couple meditation techniques (which I still struggle with). I felt grateful for the new ideas and refreshing approaches to dealing with the bad and appreciating the good. More importantly I was learning how to appreciate the bad for what it really is — a moment of life experience that could teach me a great deal. I also realized after starting down this path, how much work there was to be done on the inside so that I could be more effective for others on the outside moving forward. Now I had some new tools in my toolbox.
Buddhism is hard
I learned quickly that Buddhism is like Yoga…if you are unfamiliar with it, from the outside it might look like something anyone could do, but when you have to actually do it, the amount of focus, strength and endurance it takes can kick the crap out of you. Also like Yoga, the rewards are always 10 times better than you had anticipated and you always learn something new about yourself, making you much stronger and wiser the next time around.
Growing up I was always told, “pray and everything will be ok.” I learned that while that might be true in the space/time continuum sense (time heals all right?), many times I’d pray and it was NOT okay though! Sometimes it wouldn’t be ok for months. As a Christian trying hard to “be Christian,” where did that leave me? When praying didn’t yield a reasonably immediate result to fix a bad situation or ease the crappy feelings, what then? It felt like I had nowhere to go.
I still believe in the power of prayer. But now I also believe in the power of meditation for oneself. In my opinion, we aren’t all helpless, Godless heathens running around the planet like famished crack heads hoping to make St. Peter’s short list. As someone who loves and believes in Christ, I don’t subscribe to that. I believe those approaching God with that particular mindset are greatly minimizing the power of the same God they claim to praise.
Buddhism taught me that regardless of what religion you follow or faith you’ve chosen, simple principles that you can manage and work on yourself here on earth can empower you, making you a stronger soldier for whatever it is you believe, even if you are an atheist! It taught me that I don’t have to be helpless just because I’m struggling or that I need to deny certain emotions so I don’t offend or bother anyone. It taught me that I don’t need to maintain a certain lifestyle according to the social pressures of a local group of people so that I could justifiably show up on Sunday to meet them at their place of worship and consume their free coffee and donuts.
Most importantly, it taught me how to look at things like pain, loneliness, despair, stress and anxiety much more constructively without all the strings of guilt and shame attached to them….all the strings that I was unfortunately raised with as a Christian, not just by my parents but by Christian society.
The beauty of Buddhism for me, is that it didn’t have to replace my other beliefs, it only gave me an extra set of tools to strengthen them. There are many many flavors of Buddhism but for those considering checking it out for the first time, the book I mentioned above is honestly a great start for the newbie. After reading it, it was clear that this book was not just for people going through divorce, it was for anyone looking for thoughtful new insights and ideas on how to handle some of life’s biggest challenges.
Onward.