Out with the Old, In with the New: The Process of Letting Go.

Via Rebecca Lammersen
on Feb 20, 2016
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Rebecca Lammersen for Yogalution Studio. (Allan Henry / ahenry.com)

“Mommy, you know what I’ve noticed? When you give things away, other things, new things come in. But! You can’t give things just to get new things.”


Letting go is giving—it’s a release, a donation to the universe of what is no longer serving a purpose in my life.

To let go is to arrive in a place where the unknown is more of a welcomed prospect than what’s known.

Letting go doesn’t come without soul shaking fear. It’s what drives the final decision and the initial action of giving.

To give back to the universe—what I’ve held onto so tightly—is courageous. To adopt an understanding that what I’ve let go of doesn’t belong to me—therefore, what the universe and that person chooses to do with my gift—is none of my business.

That’s the excruciating part, isn’t it?

I want to know the end of the story—or the beginning of the next chapter. I want to know how it works out, for me and for them.

But, when I give, I let go of the control—of the knowing. I am left floating in the void, in a space filled with anxious uncertainty.

What if I never know?

What if nothing ever fills it up and I exist in this black hole forever?

Should I have let go? Should I have stayed? 

It’s a struggle to live in the in-between and try not to fill it up, to distract or to go back.

This is the test—to determine whether or not I am strong enough to move on—to trust in her, the universe.

She is watching intently. She wants to see what I do next.

Ugh, I suck at this part. I would  do just about anything to keep from being in that zone, where there’s no branch to reach for, or hand to grab, or event to look forward to.

I panic as I survey the landscape–uninhabited by anything or anyone familiar.

That’s right where she wants me.

I’ve done the legwork, the giving part. That’s my signal to her that I mean business, even though I’m scared sh*tless, and all I want to do is crawl back to what was—take back my gift and go hide.

I can’t go back though. I’ve done this too many times to know how it works.

So, I need to remain calm—tame my worry and trust that she won’t leave me hanging. She never has, even my daughter recognizes that.

The in-between is necessary—it’s where I’m most vulnerable and awake.

My expectations subside. The unknown becomes my certainty.

My heart is wide open and unattached. She knows it—and when it’s time—something new will find its way in, and I will appreciate her generous gift.


Author: Rebecca Lammersen

Editor: Yoli Ramazzina

Photo: Courtesy of author, via Allan Henry 


About Rebecca Lammersen

Rebecca Lammersen is the founder of Yogalution, an intimate, boutique style yoga studio in Scottsdale, AZ. I love being alive. I love being a mother. I love teaching yoga. I love to write. I love to know. I love to not know. I love to learn. I love to listen. I love to read. I love to swim. I love to travel. I love to dance. I love to help. I love to serve. That pretty much sums me up. For daily inspirations, check out Rebecca's website. Visit her yoga studio website and peruse her articles at The Huffington Post. You can also find her on Facebook. Subscribe to Rebecca's feed and never miss a post!


2 Responses to “Out with the Old, In with the New: The Process of Letting Go.”

  1. Jenn says:

    I needed this today. THANK YOU!

  2. karen says:

    This is beyond beautiful…………….I laughed while I read this article as it describes me completely. And when those anxious, scared moments, I will remember……..I need to remain calm—tame my worry and trust. The in-between is necessary.

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