
Date: 04/19/2025 04/20/2025
Location: Star River Meditation Center
Teacher: Yunquan Huang
Dharma Knowledge
Attachment in Spiritual Practice
Practice aims at liberation from attachment; yet along the path, attachment often reappears in subtler, more respectable forms. Practitioners may cling to methods, experiences, purity, progress, or even to the idea of “non-attachment.” This is not a sign of failure. On the contrary, it shows that practice has reached deeper layers of the mind. The question is not whether attachment arises, but whether it is recognized, understood, and released through wisdom.
At the root of attachment lies self-centered grasping. When practice becomes “my practice,” “my progress,” or “my attainment,” it easily turns into a project of self-reinforcement. Methods become identity markers; experiences become proof of worth; purity becomes a measuring stick for others. Such attachment breeds tension and comparison, and blocks deeper understanding—because genuine freedom begins where the fixation on “me” loosens.
A common form is attachment to methods. Methods are tools, not destinations. They are offered to meet conditions, not to be absolutized. When a practitioner clings to one technique or ritual as the only right way, fear of change often lurks beneath. Letting go of method does not mean abandoning discipline; it means remembering the purpose methods serve. When conditions change, skillful means must adapt.
Another frequent trap is attachment to meditative states. Calm, clarity, joy, or light can arise in practice and serve as encouragement. But when they are pursued, defended, or feared losing, they become obstacles. Experiences are transient; clinging to them ties the mind to their coming and going. Maturity shows in a balanced relationship—experiences arise, are known, and pass without ownership.
A subtler attachment is to purity and being right. Purity can become avoidance—sidestepping messy realities or uncomfortable emotions. Being right can become a weapon—using views to judge or silence others. In Buddhism, purity means not being stained by grasping while engaging fully with life; right view means seeing interdependence and holding differences with understanding. Without compassion and softness, purity and correctness harden into bondage.
There is also attachment to progress and outcomes. Treating practice as a linear ascent—measuring by hours, milestones, or intensity—creates anxiety when things plateau and shame when they fluctuate. But real growth is often quieter: slower reactions, lighter clinging, deeper understanding. Fixation on results blinds us to the wisdom unfolding in the process itself.
Buddhism does not demand that attachment disappear by force. It teaches mindful recognition. When attachment is seen clearly, it already loosens. This seeing is not a battle nor self-criticism; it is understanding the conditions beneath—fear, insecurity, comparison, the need for affirmation. Understanding gives rise to compassion, and compassion dissolves grasping. The Middle Way taught by the Buddha neither indulges attachment nor suppresses it; it allows attachment to unwind in awareness.
Mature practice is relaxed yet steady. Methods are used without being used by them; experiences come and go without capture; purity is cherished without rejecting the world. Practice shifts from “What am I achieving?” to “How am I living this moment?” As attachment softens, kindness grows; as comparison fades, ease appears.
Ultimately, attachment in practice is not an enemy to be eliminated, but a teacher revealing where grasping remains. Each moment of recognizing attachment is a step toward freedom. Letting go is not abandoning practice—it is allowing practice to fulfill its purpose: clarity without rigidity, discipline with gentleness, and a life increasingly lived from openness and peace.