The difference between me today and me ten, twenty, thirty years ago, is only my capacity to let go.
And my life is so much better for it.
It took years to learn to do it. I’m still learning. But I’m better than I was. Holding on was responsible for some horrible turns of events in my life. Learning how little control I truly had saved my sanity, my family and probably my life.
Learning to surrender helped me with everything from having cancer treatment to letting my marriage disintegrate. It helped me when I lost my way in my parenting. Giving over helped me leave the tribes I needed to leave, abandon my beliefs and break my identity down into pieces. It all sounds shocking, but the alternatives were far worse, although I’d never have believed that at the time. Letting go was very, very good for me.
Accepting loss – even death – as part of life is against everything we’ve been taught. But holding tightly, even to our life, is a waste of energy. We kid ourselves about the control we have. We don’t have control – not of others, of our future, our past, what others think of us, over our being born or over our passing. All we can do is choose, right here, and just now. That’s all.
If I could go back to my teenage self and give her two words, I would say, “Let go.” It’s all I needed to know.
At the core of me is a fire burning, a light leading me toward my truth, a thread leading me like breadcrumbs through those dark, confusing years when I thought I was wise and autonomous. I wasn’t. I was driven by fear. Losing everything I was holding to taught me all I really need is in me, and can’t be stolen, lost or burned up. All that falls away was never mine. All that stays is who, and what, I really am.
Let go. Look for the small, steady flame inside you, that’s your guide. Release the people around you. Loosen your hold on the things you think you need to survive. Step back from all you think you need to prove. Let go of it all, honey. It’s nothing, and you are everything. Trust yourself. And in God. He doesn’t have control, and one day, believe me, that thought will give you no end of comfort.
For you, today.
Love, Jo xxx