Let go or be dragged.

In the process of moving into a new home, we're forced to examine and sort through our belongings and treasures. We are faced with the decisions of what is worth holding onto, what to let go of what of as we move into the next shelter of our lives. 

This sparked a conversation with my dear friend, Dave, who had happened to be teaching at the studio that night. I asked shamelessly in almost a distressed tone, "How do we know when to let go of things? Our keepsakes? Thing we've held onto our whole lives? How do we know?" This is something I've always wondered and thought about. But especially now, in this time and space, where I admittedly felt overwhelmed with my so-called 'baggage'.  

We began to toss out our perspectives, back and forth, like two children playing catch on a spring day. Each of us taking time to share the experiences that shaped them. Dave spoke about a golf club, the memory it carried, and how it was passed down to him. He shared that he was going to hold onto it a little longer until he was ready to pass it to his grandson but then there was also this hat. A hat that was so tattered and torn. It had been with him for the greater part of his lifetime. He shared that it been passed on to his daughter with the intent that she feel the love and joy it once brought him. 

I shared that I had many trinkets and treasures that I've carried from home to home, how I've never thought twice about holding onto these material things each time I moved in the last several years. Particularly, I told him about the teddy bear my grandmother held the night she passed on It was given to me because I was her caregiver the last 4 years of her life. I expressed that I was still unsure whether this was the right time to let go of it because it carried such a powerful memory. 

I told Dave about how as I am entering this new, exciting chapter, I've been much more honest with myself about what is truly no longer meant for my hands to hold. That I feel much more 'okay' letting these things go simply because I don't have the space to store them. Dave smiled and nodded. He said, "Let's write about this." And here we are. 

It's ironic, this conversation with Dave. We met at our local yoga studio, thanks to an intention I dropped into a jar for one of his classes almost five years ago. The intention read, "Let go or be dragged."  An old Zen proverb that I used to proclaim I lived by; words I'd like to believe ignited this friendship of ours. 

I had to chuckle at life a little with this in mind. These little sweet synchronicities and the way life tends to do that, bringing these layers of self almost entirely full circle to help us grow. 

Over the past few weeks, I've sorted through most of my material belongings, deciding what should stay and what should go. Which then inspired me to dig into all of the emotional baggage I've been carrying- stale beliefs, past traumas, expectations, bad habits, etc. Which finally led me to looking at my life as a whole, seeking out every 'thing', even person, that I could let go of. 

It was exhilarating, uncomfortable, and freeing all at once. I suppose that's what this is all about though, this practice of letting go. 

It's meant for us to seek out comfort in the discomfort of surrender, to find the peace in knowing that everything here is temporary. It's purpose to shake us in a way that allows us to transform and find freedom within ourselves by letting go of all the 'things' that there is attachment to. 

As much emotion as this endeavor shook up inwardly, I was reminded that as we choose surrender, there is a great deal of peace to be found in this practice. Peace, perhaps, in the shape of a conversation with a dear friend about the practice of letting go to remind us we're never alone. Peace in the feeling of dropping off a car full of things to donate to families who needed those things more. Maybe even peace in simply loosening our grip and trusting the divine timing of this universe.  

I donated the bear. I have faith it will land in the hands of someone who needs the comfort it brought my grandmother. I made a pile of what's worth holding onto and re-committed to proverb I used to proclaim ever so loudly:  

"Let go or be dragged."