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May 30, 2019

A Morning Letting Go Ritual.

 

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Every morning, I wake up.

And then I just let go.

I let go of the day before. Finally. It takes my slumber to do so.

And I let go of tomorrow too. Preemptively.

I look at what’s directly in front, that moment, those minutes.

That (and only that) is what helps me out of bed.

I let go of my quest for perfection.

To look perfect, and be perfect, and behave perfectly, and speak perfectly, and love perfectly.

Love is not perfect, so I let it go.

I vow to love as best I can.

I let go of expectations—the ones I have for myself, and the ones I have for you.

I let go of judgments—those I harbor within myself, for myself, and those I harbor for you.

Judgments and expectations do not serve my spirit. Or yours for that matter.

I let go of impatience.

Impatience is such a selfish thing.

And I let go of some of my lofty, faraway goals.

Goals are good, but if they are unidentifiable because of their distance from me, if they are merely elusive, cloudy dreams, I simply let them float away.

I let go of blame.

Blame is a selfish thing too.

I try like hell to let go of my insecurities. There are many, so this takes time.

And I try like hell to let go of my resentments. There are some, and they are poison.

Resentments are sour pickles, left in the fridge too long.

I breathe out my tears, exhale my fears, and I let go of all my “past history” years.

Regrets are filled with pining, sorrow, and I will not hold space for them in my heart or head.

I try really hard to let go of pain—the stuff I carry around. The heavy, life-sapping, exhausting stuff. I let go of my basket full of wiggling, blood-sucking worms.

I let it go, I watch as it dissolves into nothing, right into the day—and that nothing becomes something that no longer hurts me in any way.

I let go of all the advice, and all the self-improvement platitudes. All the well-intended words.

Words become dust in the wind. I send those words right down the river to fill up the sea.

It is action, not words that has always set me free.

I let go of the need to be everything to everyone all the time.

I let go of my need to feel needed.

Every morning, I wake up, and then I just let go.

And I just am. I let myself be.

And that’s when I feel the most powerful.

Filled with fire and a freshness fierce.

Filled to the brim with promise and mindful presence.

I am unknown, to myself, to you, and I am an adventurer.

I am a listener, a seeker.

I eat some prayers for breakfast, and I sip on a warm cup of ideas.

I act on impulse, which is the opposite of my nature.

I am careful, but I do not hesitate.

Miraculously, that seems to open doors.

Doors to life. My life.

My beating, seeping, divine, and ever-creeping,

One and only life.

The moment in front is all I ever need.

~

author: Kimberly Valzania

Image: @elephantjournal/instagram

Image: Kinga Cichewicz/Unsplash

Editor: Naomi Boshari

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Patrick Inouye Aug 27, 2019 4:09pm

When I saw the title of this post, I was very excited because one of my favorite poems is the one that most of us have seen called, “She let go” by the Rev. Safire Rose. So, of course I had to dive in and read this one to see what treasure I may find contained within. Well, once again, I found another favorite piece to have in my archives. This piece got me in my core because “letting go” is a daily challenge and practice for me. As some have said in their replies, for me “being everything to everyone” all the time is one of my caveats. Hopefully I will get the lesson this time around in this life journey. Thank you for writing this post. Sat Nam 🙂

eroseunoia Aug 19, 2019 10:48pm

This came to me at a time when I truly needed to read it. Thank you.

Kelly Jun 10, 2019 3:21pm

Just wanted to say I really love your articles. Thank you for sharing them.
x

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Kimberly Valzania

Kimberly Valzania practices mindful gratefulness. She is creatively driven to share her personal experience and opinion on weight loss, fitness, life changes, adventures in parenting, marriage, day-to-day triumphs (and failures) and the truth-seeking struggle of simply being human. As words tumble out, they are sorted into cohesive piles and delivered via poetry and short essays. She hates writing so much she can’t live without it.

Read more at her website.