We think of letting go and releasing as energizing, as an act of literally “enlightening”. We may believe giving up and surrendering of something or some way of being will make us feel more awake. And sometimes it does.
But sometimes, when the carrying has been very long and very ingrained, when the holding on has been a matter of life or death, or when the need to protect or defend has outlived the actual threat, letting go can be almost like undergoing a surgery, like an amputation. It can be like a bloodletting, where the energy and the life of the held thing literally seeps out, draining us of energy and driving us to our beds, to the floor, to the wall.
What’s wrong with me, we say?
You carried a heavy thing for a long time. Longer than years. For lifetimes. And your letting go was so slow, so methodical and so deliberate, it thrummed like a rhythm inside, eventually becoming imperceptible.
Until one day, the last remnant of the thing being held withered and fell away. And you did not even see it, feel it. But you felt the empty space where it once was.
And the healing which began years ago, which once was the repelling, fighting force of your spiritual immune system pushing it away from you, has now become the flowing, strumming, cycling ebb and draw of filling in the space, creating scar tissue, building back strength and sinew and skin.
You became so used to healing, so accustomed to the work of restoration, you forgot how much energy it takes to put back what that tumour of dysfunction and dissonance took from you.
You’re in respite. You’re in recovery.
You did the work of letting go. Surgery is over. Now comes the cell regrowth. Now comes the plumping out and the pumping back in. Lay you down, weary sojourner. You’re safe here. Let your spiritual body do what it knows to do. Give yourself space and time to rest. Let go. And let your self do the rest.
Let your self do the rest.