What Are We Really Holding On To?
If you cannot hold on to life itself—if one day it will slip quietly through your fingers—then what exactly are we trying so hard to hold on to? Money, positions, relationships, memories, identities. Somewhere along the way, I began to notice a pattern in my own life. Attachment doesn't arrive all at once—it evolves. As a child, my world was small but intense. I was attached to stickers, keychains, toys—little things that felt like treasures. When they were lost, I cried as if I had lost a part of myself. As a teenager, the objects changed, but the feeling remained. I became attached to friends, to belonging, to being understood. A small quarrel could disturb my entire world. As a young adult, attachment took on a more socially acceptable form—career, studies, achievement. Success meant identity. Failure felt like emptiness. And then came a phase I didn't expect. As a parent, I found myself holding on to memories. Old clothes, diaries, my child's baby dresses...