Saying Goodbye and Letting Go…
“Holding on is believing that there’s only a past; letting go is knowing that there’s a future.” —Daphne Rose Kingma
My sister texted this photo to me and my brothers upon arrival for the last time at the house my folks built and lived in for over 30 years in Oregon.
After almost three years of visits to help my stepmom get ready to sell the house (my dad passed in November, 2017), Gloria finally made the call we were both anxious for and dreading at the same time. The house has been sold.
Thankful my sister and brother-in-law can be with her through the finally weeks and move, I find myself veering from sadness, knowing I’ll never again be where I feel my dad’s spirit so strongly, to relief that a burden has been lifted off my stepmom’s shoulders and we all can move on.
“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness.” — Thich Nhat Hanh
While I wish to move forward with grace and truly let go (is there really any other option?), it also feels important to carve out moments to say goodbye and honor all this house and its unending view from the deck gave to me and my family over the years.
And, as I do this, I wonder if many of us are being called to do the same as we navigate the world, national, and personal changes we may or may not have seen coming. So, you’re invited to take time to honor and say “good bye” to what was, let go, and then turn your gaze toward the freedom that awaits in this time of messy rebirth into an unknown future.
May you find the courage and self-compassion to gently embrace the need to say good bye, let go, and move on amid these times of major change.
It Takes Practice
“The key in letting go is practice. Each time we let go, we disentangle ourselves from our expectations and begin to experience things as they are.”
―Sharon Salzberg
The Medicine of Surrender
comes with no spoonful of sugar.
No promises, no back up plans,
no returns, no insurance.
The medicine of surrender
never tastes the way you expect,
never tastes the same next time,
seldom has the hoped for effect.
And if there were some part of you
that thought it might not be affected,
that thought it might hold back,
that part is most likely the first part
to be flooded with the relentless
truth of what is. Oh surrender.
The surest medicine that exists.
There are infinite side effects.
Wonder. Freedom. Rawness.
It’s like opening the dictionary
to the word heaven. Or obliteration.
And knowing it’s the same thing.
It’s like playing spin the bottle with life,
and you French kiss whatever you get.
It’s the only remedy that can help you
be whole. The only real medicine there is.
—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, featured in her book of poetry, The Unfolding, and on her website, ahundredfallingveils.com. You can view a video of her reading this poem to music here.
