Somehow I have found it difficult to understand the idea of letting go. Or rather my understanding of it has been intellectual, not necessarily felt and experienced. To me, it mostly sounds like another new age quick fix, a lame excuse to get rid of sticky feelings, emotions and thoughts when we no longer have the energy to indulge in them. « Just let go » with the implicit promise of a better tomorrow.
And then recently, I got really stuck. I got hooked by memories and desire and projections, and I seriously bit that hook. Yes, I did see many opportunities not to bite it, not to feed the whole process with my discursive mind, but the temptation to indulge in it was too alluring and I did just that, indulge and dive into layers and layers of fantasies.
And now, still swimming in it all but still not completely fooled by it, I think I know what letting go means. Right now, letting go means being able to rest with the initial underlying feeling that started it all, a feeling of deep kinship and compassion, love really. Resting with it, with the rawness and tenderness of it, however uncomfortable and unfathomable it may be. And accepting, simply accepting, that the rest of it is all in my head.
Today I am balancing on the edge between that incomprehensible love and the stories about what could have been and what could be. I am wavering, tempted by the fake possibilities presented by my discursive mind and yet still very aware that if I let them go, I might rest in the simple truth of deeply caring for another human being.