There is a certain art to letting go of things, I think; a
serene grace that is challenging (if not impossible) for we, as human beings, to
fully grasp – let alone accomplish.
And when I say we, I
really mean me, but, I think there are others like me out there who can relate. And maybe, if you're out there, this will help.
I am the worst at this; this “letting go” business. I will
hold on to grudges and past hurts as if the Universe will somehow stop making
them – and here is a hint, it won’t. I have held on to resentments and anxiety
as if they were my kindred.
And here is another
hint...they aren’t.
Because holding on wasn’t harming those who harmed me (or
who I convinced myself had done so), holding on was actually killing me instead.
Over the past four years, I have had a plethora of ups and
downs and sideways moves. Some were at the hands of others, but the ones I am
the least proud of were the ones inflicted by my own hands. After a severe trauma
two years ago, I said and did things that I should have never said nor did. I
had a complete, total mental breakdown. I was weak and full of rage.
I was angry at the world.
The problem was that I took that anger out on the people who
least deserved my wrath. And there is no repair for that. The damage I
inflicted with my hateful words and horrible attitude was too deep to forget.
Forgive…maybe, but never forget.
You see, I had been in a toxic relationship for so long,
that I, myself, became toxic.
Since then, I have written apology letters I have never
sent, I have atoned with a higher power and asked for forgiveness for my sins.
Yet, I still couldn’t let go.
My shame, my pain, my powerlessness over the wrongs I had
done were consuming me. And that fed in to my anger and rage against a toxic environment
that pushed me (consistently) to the brink of completely losing it. I was
self-absorbed, ego driven, manipulative and a straight up asshole. And I can
admit this, because this was all necessary in my process of letting go.
And you know what? People judged me.
And you know what else? I don’t care.
I know who I am, what I have done and what I have not. In
fact, I am often my own harshest critic. Thing is, this was part of my process.
This was part of my growth.
You see (and perhaps this is the writer in me), I would
OBSESS about exposing people for who they were, I would plot and plan and craft
ways to condemn them with the written word. But why? For what? To what end?
The truth is, I don’t really
know who these people are, good or bad. I’m not God. I don’t truly know if they are still the same
way. I don’t speak to them, nor they to me. Perhaps, they have changed. Perhaps
I had to change to understand this. Perhaps, this was part of my lesson; to
accept and embrace my imperfections and wrongdoings in order to just start
letting go. Because obsessing was literally killing me. I was poisoning me from
the inside out. And it wasn’t until I realized this that I knew I had a choice
to make. I could either let go, or die.
And breathe.
This is part of letting go.
The other night, I was scrolling through my newsfeed. I saw
a name. A name that usually makes me feel badly about a series of events.
But I (finally) felt nothing. I was finally indifferent.
You see, I had finally forgiven myself. I had let go.
So something I normally wouldn’t have liked out of my own ridiculous
need to justify my own bullshit, I liked it anyway.
Because I had begun to let go.
Then, the hamster in my head began spinning even more
feverently. I thought, if I can feel no love nor hate for someone who I once
had both emotions about, why can’t I do this for people I have felt nothing for
in the first place?
And that was when
it happened. That was the moment. The turning point. The epiphany – of sorts.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and I was sweeping my kitchen. I looked up
to the sky and said, “If you can hear me, I need your help. I am often arrogant
and selfish and strong willed about these things, but I can’t do this on my
own. I need your help. Please, help me to let go. Help me glean the wisdom that
the only way I can change the world is if I change myself. And I need to do
this.”
But it wasn’t a “poof”, there was no magic existential
lightning bolt of awesomeness that catapulted from the sky and cleansed my soul
to where I was immediately and automatically inspired to let go.
But it was a start.
Ever since that day, I find myself letting go of more and
more.
But do you know what else I found when I started to let go?
I found me again. Better still, I began to create a me that
I am becoming more and more proud of. For the first time in 35 years.
And I missed her. And I can’t wait to see what she does next.
Letting go is an art form; it is an impossible task for some
of us in a dreary world where we seem to float from one tragedy to the next,
but, ironically, it is also the one thing, the most important lesson we have to
learn if we are truly committed to creating a person inside of us we can be
proud of; it is the necessary apex of self-discovery we have to reach before
ascending the downside of the mountain.
After all, a new adventure awaits us there too.
All we have to do is….let go.
And I'm not in the business of drowning. Well...not anymore.
great reminder and eye opener to our human-ness!
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