Letting Go

I remember this poster from my youth.  The idea of "hang in there" has always been part of my life.  It's always a struggle, always a feat of strength.  It's Galaxy Quest:  "Never give up! Never surrender!"

But recently I've begun to think about that kitten in a different way.

WHY is the kitten hanging in there?  What does the kitten benefit from holding on?  What happens if the kitten falls?

Eventually, whether the kitten becomes too exhausted to hold on, or the kitten is rescued, or the kitten makes the choice to take a chance, the kitten must let go. It is impossible to hold on indefinitely.

There are times holding on is counterproductive.  There is no benefit to holding on, and it is only fear that keeps us clutching to our safety bar... fear and the hope of rescue which may or may not come. 

The question then is, when do we screw up the courage and take the leap of faith.  When do we give up on what we're clinging to, knowing it's inevitable that we lose it, and work toward a soft landing?  When does holding on only prolong the pain and suffering?

I'm not talking about existence here, although I do believe that there are some cases where individuals should have the right to let go of even that.  

What I'm talking about are the dreams we have, or the habits that keep us stuck, or the crutches we use to avoid walking when we're totally capable, only afraid.  I'm talking about NOT shooting for the moon. I'm talking about letting go of the "shoulds".  I'm talking about reimagining our lives.

We grow up learning the importance of goals.  Achieving will make us happy, we think.  We will have our dream job, our dream home, our dream lives, if only we keep doing X,Y, and Z.  There is a linear progression, a path we must follow and adhere to to get from point A, which is now, to point B, which is happiness.

And what if that really isn't the way we achieve happiness?  What if we don't have to lay out a path and follow it to the letter, missing all the little joys that lay just off our route?  What if we take diversions? What if we decide we want to follow a different path? Or just meander?  

Or what if we NEED to let go of our path, because our path takes us into danger or unhappiness?

Sometimes the heights we're at aren't as wonderful as the ground.  Sometimes it isn't as far down as we think.  And sometimes the emotional and physical pain of holding on is greater than the pain we'd feel (if any) at letting go.  Sometimes, when we let go, we are pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't as tragic as we thought it was going to be.

I'm learning a lot about letting go these days.  I'll never be a "Jesus, take the wheel" type gal, because I believe we need to steer our own destiny, but I also believe that there are times you get in the car and think, "Do I REALLY want to go there today?" and turn around and go home... or to the beach...  

I hold on to these ideas of what I want and who I am.  A lot of what I do recently was influenced by The Brine Queen.  And I know that coming down here had a lot to do with those things that are important to me, things she introduced me to, things I really love and have been part of my identity.  I came down here to whale watch. I came down here to be an aquarium docent.  I came down here to be part of the coastal environment and educating people about that.  

And it's difficult, because I understand how my son-in-law, facing his wife's loss, is now going through much the same thing.

But there are other parts of us.  For me it's wanting to be near family, near my remaining daughter.  To be somewhere in a place where I feel  people are more likely to be safe during a pandemic.  Where there is more access to fresh foods. Where there is more greenspace.  And doing that, I need to let go of the whole "coastal experience"... or vastly curtail it.  Sure, there are things I can do once I move that will feed some of that need in that part of my life, but I am giving up that being the driving force in my life.

And I see my son-in-law struggling with the same thing right now.  I am not going to tell him to "hang in there, baby".  I'm going to tell him to follow his heart, even if it means letting go.