We should approach spiritual growth defenseless, says Cistercian monk Michael Casey in his book Strangers to the City, because the gift of salvation very often runs counter to our expectations. “We open ourselves. … We approach our reading as a disciple comes to a master: receptive, docile, willing to be changed.”

I was changed by the book Awareness: The Perils and Opportunities of Reality, written by Jesuit priest Anthony DeMello from India , especially the chapter titled “Detachment,” a concept new to me. “Someone brainwashed me into thinking I need his or her love,” DeMello explained, “but I really don’t. I don’t need anybody’s love. ….”

While these words seemed to contradict what I had been taught about Christian love, I discovered that many great spiritual thinkers taught that holding on desperately to anything in this world diminished our ability to love completely and grow spiritually. Julian of Norwich knew that. So did Meister Eckhart, a medieval German monk whose teachings about detachment as a first step toward the Divine were once condemned and suppressed. Eckhart is now revered by a variety of seekers, including Zen Buddhists, Sufi Muslims, Advaita Vendanta Hindus, Jewish Cabbalists, and even those considering themselves “spiritual but not religious.”

 One of Oprah Winfrey’s self-help gurus, Eckhart Tolle, actually changed his first name as homage to this revered philosopher. “A detached heart desires nothing at all, nor has it anything it wants to get rid of,” Meister Eckhart taught. “Therefore, it is free of all prayers, or its prayer consists of nothing but being uniform with God.”

 Successful letting go of one dysfunctional relationship wmade it easier to let go of others–with co-workers and family. I found that detachment is often the most loving forgiveness possible. When I avoided troubled relationships, I liberated them from the need to keep up appearances. I spared others from what I now recognize as my unsolicited advice and well-meaning attempts to control their choices. I prayed for them instead, not by making promises or doing ascetic practices, but with openness and acceptance. I even composed my own surrendering supplication, offered on behalf of lost loved ones:

Dear God, please walk with my dear ones because I cannot. Straighten their paths even as they diverge from mine. In your love, let them know my love. In your endless mercy, help them understand the best forgiveness I can offer is this: to accept their choices and show enough respect for their journey that I step out of the way.

Excerpt from Less Helping Them, More Healing You: The Transcendent Gifts of an Ancient Spiritual Practice, by Jean P. Kelly