“I’m so angry I could kill him. And to think, that was over two years ago. If he walked in that door right now, I swear….” she stared into her coffee, absently adding another sugar packet. That made four. I wondered if she was even aware.
Her sister, or was it her friend — same hazel eyes, same heart-shaped face, leaned in to say something, then scooted back in her chair and shook her head.
Glancing up from her sugar with coffee: “What? Say it.”
The sister-friend hesitated, “If only you could just let go. He let go of you a long time ago.”
“LET GO?! If I only knew how!” And with that, she flung her chair back, grabbed her purse and scarf, and headed toward the front door. Sister-friend rushed behind, with a look of slight embarrassment on her face.
At an adjacent table, I watched as two cups of barely touched coffee, one with a sunken sugar treasure, were collected and taken away. Now, with no angry and somber faces seated directly in front of me, my eyes drifted to the window beyond.
Directly outside the cafe window stood a tree with few leaves on its branches. A tree, “let go,” just beyond the window, few leaves, “he let go of you a long time…”, leaves hanging limply one moment, parallel to the ground the next — strong wind. “If I only knew how!” Clearly, a storm was approaching. Content to be on this side of the window, hands wrapped around my Earl Gray, I sat perfectly still, staring at the leaves. “Let go, he let go of….” Leaves that held on so tightly. Not a single one relented its grip.
And then I remembered.
A Tale of Letting Go
On a still day last week, I was looking out my window, yellow Lab at my feet, just as yours is now I’m sure. (He was right. She was.) The remaining leaves on a nearby tree were dropping, kind of like feathers dropping. I leaned into that and I listened by giving my full attention to them. What they began to say to me, not in words, but in their very existence and how they were falling, was they were just letting go. They were just letting go and drifting to the earth.
And amazingly, they had held on through all the storms of this Fall. None of all that rough and tough and turbulence took them down. And after that, on a quiet, still day, in silence, they just let go.
The reward for holding on, is at some point, we just let go.”
That is the story of listening and letting go that Mark Nepo shared with me on the phone one afternoon, as we sat discussing his new book, Seven Thousand Ways to Listen. His was a tale of listening through giving his full attention to the message nature was delivering. A message of holding on, and of letting go.
If Only and How?
If only the girl knew how to let go. If only we all knew how to let go. If only, after weathering years of all sorts of storms, we could, on a quiet, still day, in silence, just let go. If only we could be those leaves. But no. Instead we try (and fail) to let go by ignoring. By denying. By repressing. By making believe. By, by, by…. Letting go will never work like that. To let go of something, we first must admit it.
But wait. Ignoring is easier. So is denying. Making believe, or blaming, yes, blaming, I forgot to mention that one before, making believe and blaming can even be fun. Addicting. (To be read in a whisper: But admitting he has moved on without me? Hush, keep quiet now, that way no one will hear how badly that stings to admit.) So instead of letting go, we hold on a bit longer.
But all we’re really holding onto is our pain. Pain that we are, in effect, prolonging. If you’re ready to be free of pain and truly want to let go of anger and resentment, start by admitting the truth of the situation.
For those old-timers of this blog, you may recall, for a few years the one and only quote on Trust Life Today was this one by Hermann Hesse:
“Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go.”
That quote speaks to me…so much so it’s on my business cards, stationery, and even on some Trust Life Today merchandise. I just love it.
I also see Letting Go as part of my overall philosophy, sandwiched between Trust and Peace. So much so, that I had this necklace custom made:
It’s my personal formula:
By learning to Trust Life Today — we are able to Let Go — which leads to what I believe we seek most: Peace.
This is not only a formula, it’s a daily practice.
The more we hold on to, the more we’re weighed down. You say you want to move forward in your life? Well yes, I do too. So, let’s begin by letting go of all that doesn’t feed our present well being. The past is done, the future is still developing.
Look to the window beyond. Let Go and Trust a greater outcome is already yours.
Won’t you pass this on to a friend or share it on Facebook? You never know…this might be just the thing they’re looking for. In peace and joy, friends. Love, Leslie
When I found myself healing from Fibromyalgia, I also found myself not wanting to let go of the fear. I was still angry at being ill for so many years. I realized that my anger had a place at a certain time – it was a source of strength. And for the short term, it was a very powerful ally in helping me survive. However, it became a comfortable, easy, hellishly destructive force that was eating my spirit over time if I would not release and heal. Releasing the anger was nothing short of icky and a time filled with tears and anguish, but the reward of joy, cleansing love and light has filled my life ever since.
What a thoughtful and profound comment, Kris. I completely agree with what you’re saying about anger. Often, when people ask me if I became angry after being diagnosed with cancer or how I “fought it” — I find it difficult to answer without sounding all holier-than-thou. Here’s the thing — I didn’t become angry, and I didn’t fight anything — but when I say that, I never want it to sound like the way I did it was the *right* way. It just happened to be *my* way — at that particular time in my life. It’s how I was called to respond. But the anger you speak of, that’s the anger that fuels many to recovery — to their will to live. It serves a definite purpose.
Thank you for offering your true life example to share with others on the ally anger can be short term, and the importance of releasing it after it no longer serves you. Beautiful! Love, Leslie
Loved your post, Leslie. There are so many things we can let go of…and not just anger and sorrow and fear, but all those old tapes we have running through our heads. The way life should be, that we should be, or our friends and family should be. We have so many untruths we have unconsciously bought into over the years. These are the things I look to let go of. It’s not easy, but there is no other feeling in the world like it when you do. Ah, the sweet taste of freedom. Thanks for the reminder…and the inspiration. Bill
Thank you, Bill. Ah… the “Shoulding all over ourselves” syndrome. Yes, I know it well.
And I love the way you used the word Freedom. I once listened to an interview Oprah did with… Deepak maybe? (don’t you love the way I’m on a first name basis with them?!) — in it they were discussing what we want most as human being is Freedom. And since I’ve been known to write and speak opening about Peace being what we desire most, I stopped to analyze the two. Here’s what I concluded:
Freedom is noun.
The way I’m using ‘peace’ is a verb in this sense: to be, become, or keep silent or quiet.
But get this, peace, as a *noun* has this as its definition: FREEDOM from disturbance.
Pretty cool little grammar lesson, huh? Unless you’re asleep. Bill! Have I lost you?? 😉
Thanks for letting me indulge — you know how I do. Love, Leslie
This is by far your best post that I have read.
Thank you, Kamal. My writing-game steps up when I expose myself to really good writers, and I’ve been doing a lot more of that lately. Thank you, Mr. Really Good Writer. I hope you know I’m being serious here — you crossed my mind (more accurately, your writing style crossed my mind) several times as I was writing this post. Love, Leslie
One of the best, I agree.
Letting go of a 20 year marriage – a 20 year dream – a dream of a future requires TRUST in myself that has atrophied. I must stand without him. I must go on. Letting go is certainly the hardest part…the HOPE is a saddlebag strapped to my neck – weighing me down. Letting go. I must do it. But is so hard.
In time you will find the right tool, the one that speaks to YOU, to sever that saddlebag strapped to your neck. Love, Leslie