I’m letting go.
I’m letting go of everything that has twisted inside me and caused me pain.
I’m letting go of every word that has been used to hurt me.
I’m letting go of old loves, if their presence still aches in my cells.
I’m letting go of the past and the future and I’ll soon let go of what’s happening now.
I’ve clung tightly to dead wood, floating with powerful currents, in murky rivers for far too long. I have been pulled under, unable to breathe. I have swallowed poisonous water, that has left its residue inside. I have crashed on rocks, battered and bruised believing that I did not have the strength to pull myself out and set myself free.
I have held memories that served to hurt. I have replayed scenes—pressing repeat, instead of delete.
I have fueled my mind with fear, resentment, frustration, jealousy and I have allowed these things to take over me.
Once the moment has passed, it is pointless clinging to it. To live fully and experience truly living means to give everything I have, to breathing in what is here now. Not confusing it with what once was.
I somehow believed that by holding on to all of these past emotions I was also holding on to my identity.
I also believed that by holding emotion, I held some control. It was the opposite. My emotions have been controlling me.
I have given permission for yesterday’s things to stab me again and again and again. I also allowed my fear for tomorrow to cloud my love for today.
I have been held captive, and yet, I have also been captivated. I have scars from the chains and have chosen to see through rose tinted eyes.
Everything that is within me is an illusion of beautiful and tragic encounters.
Stirring painful reactions deep within.
Nothing is quite as it seems.
And I have allowed these mixed up emotions to define me.
I no longer recognize myself. I am a product of my past and a product of my future.
It’s time to just be.
To let go.
To stop wallowing in what once was.
To destruct, rebuild and reconstruct.
Like a child letting go of a handful of colorful balloons, I am now looking up and loosening my grip. Afraid though also exhilarated and liberated to watch them rise and float with the wind.
Like a tree letting go of its leaves, I’ll release all feelings so they have freedom to fall and touch the earth for the very first time.
Things change. Time moves everything. I must be fluid too.
I will keep the memories, but they will not have painful emotions attached to them. I will remember with a clear mind as I have learned so much since those days, so I should no longer see things the same.
I have tried to hold onto the same emotions that were created back then. Yet, all is not the same, so why have I allowed these emotions to remain intact? Deepening and embedding into me, becoming more deluded as days pass.
Today, and tomorrow and for as long as I need, I will tie ribbons to each of those balloons that are filled with my past, my pain and my fear. I will lie down on the grass and look up to the sky.
One by one, I will pause to think about what each one means to me, and what I’m holding within it and why. I will breathe in all of the feelings attached to them and then, I will remain still, feel the weight and experience them once last time, before exhaling and breathing them out.
I am choosing to release, to free them, to watch them soar, smile and hold and love myself that little bit more.
I need a blank canvas in order to sketch the beautiful art of who I am, so I must let go and finally erase the scribbles and stains that others have left behind.
I’m letting go.
“A leaf does not resist the breeze. A goose does not resist the urge to fly down south. Is this not happiness? Is this not freedom? To access this incredible state, we need only one thing: Trust. Trust that, when you are not holding yourself together so tightly, you will not fall apart. Trust that it is more important to fulfill your authentic desires than listen to your fears. Trust that your intuition is leading you somewhere. Trust that the flow of life contains you, is bigger than you, and will take care of you—if you let it.”
~ Vironika Tugaleva
Author: Alex Sandra Myles
Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock
Image: Wiki Commons