Letting Go--NOT!

by Brenda G. • More.com Member { View Profile }

For most women—especially this woman—letting go isn’t easy to do, we don’t fully grasp the concept, this ‘letting go’ action that involves unpeeling and tossing. We are plastic wrap, double-sided sticky tape, bubble gum on the bottom of a rubber-soled-shoe, skin-on-skin—we invest for the long haul, and our cling is stronger than super glue on steroids. We don’t go gently, rather we’re like a Celine Dion song…

Further, we become catatonic when denied closure, which is almost always. Naturally, we re-write dialogue and rehearse final scenes repeatedly until we have perfection on the stage in our minds. We know the moment, we’ve set weather conditions, we’ve consulted wardrobe, and we know the corner on which we will be standing where the last scene plays out. We’re ready. Yet, when or the IF that moment presents itself does it rarely play out as we have painfully rehearsed, usually the opposite. When it comes down to the moment, we forget our brilliantly choreographed scene down to the words, whether whispering I love yous, or don’t let the door hit you on the way out, it’s a flop.

I’m guilty of similar, I like to rewrite, edit, write, and edit again until I’ve earned myself an Emmy on that final scene alone. But I’ve never actually had to take to the stage and perform. I got to thinking today about it, and the act of letting go.

I attempted to make a list of all times I let go without having a gun at my head forcing me to let go. It went like this…

  1. Doodle doodle
  2. Doodle doodle doodle
  3. ………..
  4. …………………………………
  5. Lots more doodling

I started at my first inhale, and traveled most all the days of my life trying to remember a single moment in my life that I let go at my own hand. Honestly, as Buddha is my witness, I couldn’t think of one moment. Briefly, I felt ashamed over this realization. It struck a nerve in me that I am one of those people who holds on with all they’ve got, giving it all, finding new ways to make things work, fighting the odds, holding out for the miracle, and finally, believing there is really a tooth fairy, that Santa makes the rounds on Christmas Eve, and that somewhere on Mt. Sinai all the Gods <because the world’s people have many> sit and watch over this world.

What a humbling moment to swallow without anything stronger than a cup of cold Earl Grey.

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