Thursday, November 15, 2012

3 ways to release, surrender, let go...

There's too much.  Too much of everything.  And for those of us who are sensitive, we are brimming over, swimming in the overwhelm and in need of release. I wish I had a manual for letting go, but I do not.  It seems that no matter how much I let go of, there's always more.  Some days it feels like a bottomless well... but something deep inside of me knows it is not.

We come here, to these lifetimes, to learn, to love, to lose and to let go.  We know we take nothing with us in the end yet we sure live like we do.  In fact, we take as much as we possibly can.  We hoard it - most of the time without even knowing.  We take all of the joys, all of the pains, all of the bliss and all of the sorrows.  Of course we want only the good things so we soak those up eagerly without cause for thought.  We adamantly reject and detest the bad things though because they feel so awful.  But in refusing and hating the bad, we make it grow bigger inside of us.  We focus so much energy on not wanting the pains of life that we sow such a fertile ground of Not Wanting Bad Stuff that we inadvertently attract more and more of it, over and over.  The law of attraction is real.  We really do get back from the world what we send out and when we are consumed with not wanting more of the bad (when we are neck-deep in the bad), that's all we're asking the universe for... and we get it.



This is where The Art of Letting Go comes in.  I should have a post-doctoral degree in this fine art by now.  I once purchased a book on Letting Go at a used book sale and treated it like my bible.  I carried it with me and read the analogies and thought about them over and over (red flag:  I was hoarding letting go).  I believed that the book Who Moved My Cheese was written for me and I had to own a copy after reading someone else's (yeah, there it is again...).  I needed to know *how* to let go and I wasn't going to stop until I figured it out (spoiler alert:  I don't claim to have figured it out, but I have donated most of my books and I have a few approaches I recommend trying).

Most of the time we know instinctively that we need to let go of things that no longer serve us (the knowing becomes clearer the more times we've faced the challenge of letting go - or, in some cases, when a close friend simply refuses to hear the story once more).  [So, Recommendation #1:  Get a good friend.  And be real honest with said good friend - ask for real honesty in return.  Buy good friend a drink and show up when good friend needs you to do the same.]

We need to let go so that we can focus on what we *do* want in our lives in place of the bad.  But those bad moments can be so insidious that they get stuck inside of us, refueling the automatic delivery system of exactly what we don't want any more of - so we get more bad, over and over, creating a seemingly bottomless well of hard, challenging, painful experiences.  Letting go of the thoughts, energies and (understandable) hatred of the negative stuff in our lives then becomes so challenging that it seems impossible to get out.  We feel as though we can't even remember what the good moments look like anymore.  The typical advice to "think positive" and focus on what we truly want becomes an irritating reminder that David is smaller than Goliath and he can't possibly win.  But what if the art of letting go happens in surrendering to the monster?  Can we love it enough to turn even our darkest moments and deepest worries into parts of ourselves that we can't help but love?

I believe so.

I believe that the brightness of love can shine its loving (and joyful) light precisely in the places we can't seem to escape.  By turning to face the monster and giving it love, we can shine our own light on the thing we want so desperately to let go of.  By loving that which we hate, we take away its power and we have nothing to avoid any longer.  The scary parts become the parts of us that are craving love and tenderness - something we have within us to give and feel much better than when we hate them.

Therefore, Recommendation #2:  Love the bad stuff, all of it, see it as part of yourself - a part that really needs a hug, to be held, to be told it's dream job is coming, it's beautiful and smart and has great hair... you get the point.

And because I'm a big fan of journaling - and writing in general, here's a third suggestion for your letting go journey, for good measure:

Recommendation #3:  Write a letter to God/your higher self/your guides/your angels/the person who hurt you/your future self/Santa Claus and tell him/her/it your deepest secrets, hopes, fears and desires.  Beg, plead, pray, bargain.  It doesn't matter what you say or how you say it, just that you are honest and that you are releasing some of the energy that is wrapped so tightly around what you need to let go of.  Then seal it up, burn it, hide it, shred it, bury it or read it back to yourself and hit delete.  It doesn't matter what you do with it because the message was delivered the moment you wrote it and acknowledged its existence   You've simply empowered your own ability to release (i.e. leg go) in the simplest of forms.  After all, it's all energy.  The fears, the hopes, the intentions, the messages in your letters, the worries you carry - all of it is just energy.  Release any small amount of that energy you no longer want and you will feel freer to start asking for and attracting what you do want.

I honor your strength, courage and determination in the battle of letting go.  ...And I have no idea who would own a necklace that says "let go" - not a clue.


No comments:

Post a Comment