letting go

by Bella Rum

By letting it go it all gets done. The world is won by those who let it go. But when you try and try. The world is beyond the winning. ~ Lao Tzu

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about a rough week I was having.  I re-read it a few minutes ago, and it reminded me of what a bad place I was in at the time. I learned on Saturday that the situation I was so concerned about has been resolved. In the way that I was hoping! I’m pleased and relieved.

And why couldn’t I trust that it would all end well? I don’t know, but I couldn’t.

I steeped in turmoil for days, unable  to sleep, focus or relax. After I’d done all that I could do to encourage a good outcome, I still fretted for a few more days for good measure. Days I will never get back.

I’d like to change the way I handle stress, or the way I DON’T handle stress. Most anxiety is related to control or lack of control or making the best decisions about the things we can control. I have that much figured out. And the silliest thing of all is that control is only an illusion anyway! No one really has it… evea!

Oh, gosh! Didn’t mean to scare you, but you know it’s the truth.

I did figure out one thing during this period. Relief does not have to wait for resolution. Sometimes that can take years. There are times when resolution never comes, but relief can come in the form of release.  The trick is to get to that letting-go place, that place where we throw up our hands and give it to the universe, God, or the little green men with the big, liquid eyes, purple sneakers and ukuleles. Yes, my little green men play ukuleles.

Sounds so simple, doesn’t it? I guess I already knew this, but getting to that place of release is a process for me, and I bet it is for you, too.

You probably remember when I finally got to that letting-go place. After days of pickling in juices of my own making, I finally woke up one morning and asked H if we still had some of the porch paint in the garage. He found it, popped open the can and put a paintbrush in my hand. As I dipped and stroked and lost myself in the repetition of a mindless task, I slowly allowed the slightest breeze to blow away my angst.

I truly let go of my fear of what could happen in the future, and the minor annoyances between H and myself that were probably caused by the added stress. I gave it up to whatever or whoever is in charge of such things because I’m not. Then, I almost forgot about it until we received the news that all was well. Of course, it wasn’t about the painting; it was about allowing the process of acceptance to work. It was getting to the place where I was willing to accept whatever the outcome would be.

Now, if I could only figure out how to get to that place of resignation faster. When I do, you’ll be the first to know.