Skip to main content

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. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sunrises

 In early June I had my younger brother John up to a cabin.  He had come a long way to be there with me.  Where he traveled from, the sun rose over the ocean every day and set near the mountains. He could see them both from his porch. Here, in northern Wisconsin, was a small lake, not an ocean. There were no mountains-just a tree line that was sprouting furled leaves not long after the snow melted. And there wasn’t a porch with a view. You had to walk, with warm slippers and hot tea, out to the end of a weather-worn pier to catch the sunrise.  Which I did, while he was there.  I think it was the most beautiful sunrise I experienced in 2023.  I’ve learned that life is funny that way; the seemingly unremarkable moments-can become exquisite when you know…they are fleeting. Or when you face the harsh reality, that they are gone. I never made it to his porch across the world, when he was alive, to share the views he wanted to share with me.  But I’m realizi...
Post a Comment
Read more

Grateful

 I’m grateful for those… Who share sunrises with me, or send them-you renew in me a sense of hope Who hike the trail with me-you help connect me to what is true Who travel with me-to the store, on a trip, in a relationship, or on the journey of this lifetime-you help me experience the comfort of companionship Who have been hurt by me-and hopefully forgiven me, you’ve humbled and softened me to be better Who have been my teacher-you’ve expanded my perspective Who have left me-in a business, a relationship, from this life-you remind me what matters to me, and what I need to care for tenderly Who work with me-on houses, buildings, cabins, businesses and financial plans-you teach me teamwork and how to think wider Who have interacted from a distance-on social media with a comment, as a stranger handing me your child to hold for a photo in India, as a reader of my book somewhere I”ve never been-you’ve shown me how connections matter Who have left this life too early-you’ve shown me what...
Post a Comment
Read more

Third Born

 This girl was the third born. The one who stayed behind when her sisters were dropped off at school and she was yet too young. Who hung out with me in the woods having warm peanut butter sandwiches and apple slices on a log when her sisters were learning to read.  She was the one who spent rainy weekends with me when her siblings went off to college. Who went away with me on spring breaks to warm beaches, and stayed home with me on snow days reading in front of the fireplace.  She is the one who held my dad’s hand as he was dying. Who held me close and held me up when another recently left this world. Who went with me to pick up each of our pups. The one who was by my side as our house was built, the cabin picked out, the mill fixed up. She is steadfast. Gentle. Kind to her core. She’s lifetimes wiser than me. And she is the best friend anyone could ask for.  Our life was blessed 22 years ago when she brightened the world with her birth. It has been glittering becau...
Post a Comment
Read more