Moments of Letting Go

Moments of Letting Go... 

These moments are odd and quiet. Yet, I always remember them so clearly when they happen…one of the most profound of these moments was the one where I “let go” of the cancer outcome.

It, too, was a quiet moment – which struck me odd. There had been so many months previous to that where I cried, yelled at God, felt sorry for myself, imagined the worst, pictured my hubs at the funeral, where I thought about saying final “goodbyes”.

Then it happened…I let go.

I truly can’t say what prompted it. I wish I could.

Thinking back, I think it’s a realization of our individual place in the world, and it’s a sense of peace about the fact that we are not the ones in ultimate control.

Yes. I believe in positive thinking, I believe in the power of the mind, I believe we co-create our realities.

Yet, I’ve also found that there’s something more…there’s a cooperation with the Divine that doesn’t happen unless we let go.

Until we let go, we hold our core “oneness” at arm’s length with a certain amount of distrust.

Until we let go, we become ensnared in what we want the outcome to be.

Until we let go, there’s a haunting sense that we may not be okay.

I wish I could say that I am a skilled practitioner at “letting go”.

I am not.

I wish I could tell you step-by-step how to let go.

I can not.

I can only give you sign posts. I can only tell you what these moments have looked like for me.

For me, these moments come quietly and peacefully – usually, for me…after a long period of struggle and fighting with “what is”.

These moments of letting go are accompanied by a knowing that seems to be part of an endless well of confident knowing.

It’s a place that feels timeless.

When I let go with cancer, it wasn’t because I knew that I was going to be “cured” or that I somehow “knew” that I would recover, and it wasn't that I somehow "knew" that it wouldn’t come back and kill me as it had my aunts and my friends....yet it's not a feeling of resignation or giving up.

When I let go, it was simply a sense – a knowing – that either way (death or life), I’d be okay…that there was something that was “me” that was beyond what I commonly thought of as “me”.

This true “me” could not be touched by “good” or “bad”, by “health” or “disease”.

I knew that whether I lived or died, it would all be okay. I knew that, either way, I would be okay.

I had another of these moments this morning.

I have always wanted my own business. I have tried many different things over the years, spent lots and lots of money…and gotten very poor results, not to mention a lot of debt trying to figure it all out.

I have tried various incarnations of various ideas...with zero results. (Very frustrating.)

For as long as I can remember, there has always been a sense of "urgency" to bring forth these ideas, these businesses, to share information with people.

It's a sense of "I"ll arrive when...".

It's a sense of not being able to fully and completely relax.

As I was standing in the bathroom this morning getting ready, I was thinking about launching a new project - the first in a series on money, and I had a thought about my "cut bait" point.

At what point, do I "cut bait" with this project, with the ideas, with the businesses?

At what point, do I let myself "let go"?

The truth is, whether any of these ideas happen or not, are successful or not...I know that I am okay.

I know that I am - and will be - happy and content.

I love my life...and I got fed up this morning with a feeling of not allowing myself to fully enjoy the life that I've created because of a sense of obligation to these ideas.

It felt odd to think that if this next project is not successful and does not pull a certain return, that I would be content to go back to teaching, to pursue my PhD (which I plan to do either way), and make my life one of professional teaching.

It felt odd and a little sad, but highly liberating.

I got ready and headed down to the main office to get some coffee.

And that's when it happened.

As I walked toward the office, I turned to and soaked in this amazing view of the beach...

And I was covered in that sense of quiet calm, that sense of knowing.

I let go.

I felt FREE.

I knew that it would all be okay.