On Letting Go

I can’t think of a time when I have ever, on my own timeline, successfully and fully let go of something. Anything. And I’ve arrived at this: are you and I really the ones in charge of the letting go? Maybe it’s more like being in communion with these things that you want *so badly* to be rid of, or the things that you want *so badly* to progress into the next thing. Like a (somewhat maniacal) dance, and you just have to be willing to wonder around like the overzealous-but-ill-prepared being that you are, waiting for the next version of yourself to materialize.


I find some relief in that. In believing that I might not be the one keeping me back, holding me away from the full expression of love and life. And turtle pose, for that matter. That I’m working in and with forces that I can’t see or begin to understand, but that have a hold of me and aren’t done with me just yet.


And, if any of that is true, that it would be okay to just let those forces hold me. That I can tread water and keep on keepin’ on. I can remain willing. That there will be a letting go. That I’ll know when it’s over.