Wednesday, April 22, 2026
The absence of absence is where addiction festers.
You can be addicted to anything, but fondness grows in contemplating the so-called absence. We have icky dependency. Fondness has a certain distance to it, but not aloof. I have friends who are addicted to people, under the guise of “community,” or “love,” or “togetherness.” These are disguises for an aversion to being alone.
On the other hand, I could easily get addicted to being alone! I find myself comfortable in my addictions of solitude. My heart grows fond of people when I sit fully experience the absence of them.
Consider fasting. Taking time away from food makes you appreciate and be more fond. Most of us shovel it in like it’s about to be stolen. Remove it. You understand the benefits of absence. I’ve experimented with intermittent fasting as well as longer periods. Eating that first bite after a longer fast is succulent. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, breakfast!” Break-fast. Do that with money, too. Give it away.
You learn how to appreciate through absence. Worry is another addiction. But I can tell you, once you experience the absence of it, freedom is real. Somehow, trust never dies, neither does peace and equanimity. Those wonderful states often hide because we’re stuck in addictive states. Time for some fondness. Time for a fast break. Time to look into doing without, especially your partner, confidants, and “must-haves.”
Those with long addictions to partners suffer tremendously when death arrives. It’s cold turkey, and they cannot handle the “sudden loss.” It would be as cruel as taking away the addict’s “fix” and leaving them in withdrawal. That’s vacuity. That’s void. Have your own intervention before life “intervenes.”
All of my close friends get closer because there is a great deal of space and time in between. Examine clinging tendencies and crowding addictions. Could it be time for some fond-building? Then, examine the interval.