Perhaps one of the hardest things.
Letting go of a person, a friendship, a routine, a way of doing things, an expectation, a fear, a hope. That too is scary.
Fear of the emptiness that remains, fear of not knowing what to do with that time, fear of not knowing what to do with the space that’s left.
Even though I began this process four years ago, I’ve struggled to understand what it truly means to let go especially this year.
What first struck me as a clear direction to follow a phrase shared during what seemed like a casual conversation, “Just let go” has become a journey of learning.
Letting go of control over my business, letting go of resentment, letting go of the few things I had accumulated in my closets, the pictures on the walls, the gifts, the Tuesday visits, the Sunday family gatherings, the occasional meetups with friends, the work relationships, the place I once called home, the expectations of the journey, of the outcomes, of what I might expect from a person or a career path none of that has been easy.
But strangely enough, letting go has helped me regain order in my life or at least what I consider order.
I’ve been able to put into perspective what I’ve done over the last fifteen years, and I feel satisfied with the path I’ve taken.
A path my father calls “the goat’s path,” where I’ve bumped into rocks over and over again.
But that path helped me confront the fear of the unknown ultimately, the fear of letting go of a “safe harbor.”
More importantly, it helped me accept that this fear exists that it appears in moments of change, that it clouds my thinking, knots my stomach, makes my hands shake and sweat, clenches my jaw as I sleep, or wakes me up at 4 a.m. with nightmares and a racing heart.
It also taught me that there is no truly safe harbor or guaranteed situation just like the life I had planned after a two-year journey, where I intended to live between two countries on different continents.
The pandemic changed that. But with it came surprises like the joy of being still.
On this journey, I learned that no matter which path you take, it will lead somewhere.
Where? That remains uncertain.
But being paralyzed by indecision can also lead you to an uncertain place.
So either way whether walking forward or standing still letting go is inevitable.
The unknown is inevitable.
Maybe the better path is to learn to be at peace with letting go which for me now means being at peace with not having control over everything, and making sure that things don’t have control over me.
Learning to be at peace with the space that remains.
Continuing to walk is inevitable. Letting go and allowing things to follow their course that, too, is inevitable.
