Recently, I let go of something I love.
It was a hard decision. Mostly because I loved it. And also because I don't like giving up on things.
The hard truth of the matter is, I knew in my heart what needed to be done. My gut told me so. We rarely listen to our guts these days, especially when they tell us to do something that will hurt. I find the gut instinct, or intuition, is often overlooked because we want to trust our heads or our hearts. Eventually, though, we must do what is best. And if we let go of something with understanding and acceptance it doesn't hurt as much.
Of course, this did hurt, because I let go of it with exhaustion and frustration, and, if I'm being honest, a tiny bit of anger, as well. As soon as I pulled the trigger, I panicked and started to doubt what I'd done. But then, I sat back and really thought about it.
I am not a rash person. I do not leap before I look. As far back as I can remember, I've thought things through. Excessively so, really. What a pain the rear that can be. This situation wasn't any different. After the panic subsided, I realized the choking feeling of letting go was because I didn't do it with love. I released it with irritation.
At first, it took a long time for me to come to terms with what needed to be done. This was because I considered it mine, my baby, a part of me. Sure, I let others in on it and, over time, it became ours and not just mine. But secretly, between you and I, at the end of the day, it was mine. I nurtured it. I brooded over it. And I was left rattled when it seemingly fell to pieces months ago.
That is when I started to let go by distancing myself from it. After a couple of incidents, I realized, the thing I loved no longer brought me joy. It was a source of contention and made me tense. And that was my ah-ha moment! When I realized what I loved wasn't what it was anymore. What I loved was the idea of what it used to be. What I loved was in the past. And what it became ended up being nothing like what it was supposed to evolve into. Not in my mind, at least.
Sure, I still loved it, but in the same way you love a film from your youth. You know, in your heart, if you watched it again, it wouldn't be the same. It's never really the same.
Ironically, I had to let go twice. Initially, by saying I was letting go, and later, while sitting on my couch mulling, I relinquished my grasp on it with love, understanding and perhaps a bit wistfulness. The first time it hurt, like I was being run over my an emotional steamroller, and the second time, not so much.
They say if you love something, let it go and if it comes back to you it was meant to be. I do believe this. For lovers, friends, family, careers, travels and even book projects. That said, you must let it go without the expectation or hope it will come back to you, because, in all reality, a lot of things never return. And sometimes we realize we never had whatever it is we loved in the first place and so letting go is the only way of setting yourself free.
I know, this will never come back to me. And I'm okay with that.
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