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Letting Go

 Winter, 2013-I’m alone in the studio. Incense is burning and my books are around me on the mat. My singing bowl is ready to be used at the end of class as we chant “om.”  

The class begins in an hour and I am going over the sequences and thinking about the intention for the evening. Though it seems like an often visited topic of thought on the path towards self-realization, I’m going with the intention of “letting go.”  I visit the concept frequently on different levels in my life.

The action of letting go can evoke judgment. Some define it as “giving up.” Others may view it as “surrender,” “walking away from,” “release,” maybe even “abandonment.” 

In class, letting go is about releasing tension, easing into a pose, and shedding all the thoughts that clutter the path to peace. To do this we become mindful and focus on the breath. 

Off the mat-letting go can stir up a whole pot of feelings, some tastier than others. Certainly, it depends upon what you are letting go of.  If it’s letting go of annoyance towards your spouse who forgot to pick up organic orange juice... letting go of that tastes good. Surrendering to the idea that your child is grown and going off to college. Bittersweet. Giving up on a relationship…can be unpalatable. Letting go of the habit of eating chocolate marshmallow ice cream before bed every night?…verdict is still out.  But no matter how unsavory, is it like the spoonful of medicine…and we need administer it to get better? 

Some of what we let go of may be so big it forms a lump in the throat on the way down. But even on the seemingly inconsequential attachments, the pain that insists on tagging along peppers enough mental chatter in your head to convince you to hang on.  Is it the space that will be created on a release that brings the fear? Do we fear the quiet? The empty? The unknown? The loss? The loneliness? Is that why we hang on? 

You aren’t really sure… you check in with your inner voice and ask, “is it time?” After all, timing is everything, is it not? Yet that inconspicuous voice doesn’t answer you back right away or loud enough. 

Back on the mat, class is ending. I’ve said all I can say about “letting go” during our time together tonight.  I know I haven’t bestowed any great life-altering wisdom, because I’m still trying to figure it out myself. But everyone is now listening. Including me. 

Savasana is over. The singing bowl’s vibration is fading as we all move to a seated position, eyes closed. The lights are low. Candles lit. Shri yantra hanging on the east wall. After a practice of asana the minds are more in sync with the bodies and breaths. It’s quiet and still with an energy that is gently charged with peace.  In a low tone, I invite everyone to join as we chant "om"-the sound of the universe.   

All of our voices blend. The vibration within and without feels like unity; feels like everything and nothing at the same time. This sound we all make only possible to utter as we let go of our breath. 

Our voices fade. We are focussing back on our inhales and exhales. The truth of it, a law of life as honest as the sun dropping out of the sky each night, making room for the moon. As necessary as a tree releasing her leaves when the season is ready. The truth is that an inhale is only possible after an exhale. For life to continue--we must... let go. 


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