What It Means To Let Go
Love, death, and freedom - at a snail’s pace
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“To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.” - Mary Oliver
A convergence of themes intertwined into this week’s meditation: love, death, and freedom.
On September 1st, my children and I were visited by a stranger. As I was washing the dishes, a tiny baby snail mysteriously appeared in our kitchen sink. We quickly relocated him to a plastic container and filled his new home with soil, rocks, wood, and lettuce. The girls and I wanted to keep him safe, sheltered, and loved. To welcome him into the family, we baptized him Sheldon, commemorating his budding semi-translucent shell.
Over the past few months, we took care of Sheldon, feeding him, cleaning his ‘cave’, and replenishing his water supply. It was fascinating to see him grow. His shell, once fragile, evolved into a sturdy brown spiral shield. His antennae stretched out and reacted to our voices, music, and lights. He reached quintuple his size in what seemed like a blink of an eye.
But over time, as I watched Sheldon slide around his plastic home, I could sense his restlessness. He was spending most of his time clinging to the ceiling of his box, hibernating in his shell. When we opened the lid of his container, his antennae would perk up and he’d begin rushing towards the opening.
Perhaps it was my own projection, but I believe that he desired freedom. To be outside. To explore. I could feel his longing and desperation. A silent plea for something beyond his plastic prison. It’s an emotion familiar to us all, as we’re often trapped in mental prisons of our own making.
B and M could sense it was time too. We all agreed to set him free.
Sometimes we can love a thing so much that we can’t let it go. But selfish love can stifle freedom. Our desperation and fear can hold things back from reaching their full potential. In our blindness, we shift from guardian to oppressor.
Saying Farewell
On a cool November evening, we held a little ceremony and bid Sheldon farewell, setting him free in our backyard. I could feel the pain and sadness in my children. Their desire to keep Sheldon in familiar territory and control his environment.
M worried about Sheldon’s safety and pondered various disaster scenarios. B’s heaving sobs, the flowing of her tears, the sorrow contorting her face, were difficult to witness. I held my girls tightly and said to them softly, “I understand.” Their fears and tears were poignant expressions of love.
Perhaps Sheldon doesn’t make it long in the outside world - plucked by a hungry bird or caught in an inexplicable blast of wind. Perhaps he lives a lasting, adventurous life - eating the bountiful plants in our backyard and growing to the size of a tennis ball. Whatever fate awaits him is a journey that is uniquely his.
I like to think that his momentary taste of freedom was divine ecstasy. That the bliss and wonder of the natural world was just what he needed to make his life complete. That he was able to experience heaven on earth even for just a brief moment.
I hope we all get to feel that sweet taste of purity at some point in our lives.
Letting Go
Letting go can evoke sadness. A deep, sharp longing of what once was. A death of a desire or dream.
As we grow, we learn to release. Our things, our emotions, our relationships, our stories - they become burdens to carry. In departing, they teach us. Transforming transitory emotion into wisdom and intuition.
Death is a Breath of Life
We all experience and witness ‘little deaths’ in life. The loss of a pet, a family member, a home, a career, a relationship, a lifestyle, an identity.
Witnessing death builds resilience, fosters growth, teaches temperance, connects us to others, and reminds us of the sweet joy of a life experienced.
Dying a little death is a chance for rebirth. A shedding of the old.
Winter can be perceived as a harbinger of death. Browning leaves withering and falling from the trees. Vegetation rotting, insects and animals vanishing.
But in truth, it’s a season for the unseen. Fungi and bacteria thrive, feasting on decaying foliage, creating sustenance for the coming spring.
One may observe our society and the state of the world and lament that it, too, is dying. But zoom out into orbit and apply a time scale of millennia - you’ll see that it’s really just Mother Earth breathing.
What looks like chaos and destruction is actually the ending of a cycle and the beginning of a new era of creation. An exhale in a rhythm of renewal.
Closing Thought
Life is not ours to keep and cling onto - to judge, control, or imprison. It is a fleeting dance of moments. Our calling is to savor the present moment and appreciate the beautiful memories we’ve created - the sweet emotions that dwell forever in our souls.
What I’m Doing This Week
Gratitude
I’m grateful for messages I needed to hear, arriving at exactly the right time.
Lesson Learned
Release the narratives that confine you. You are more than your stories, far greater than what you can imagine.
Listening to
Music for Growing Flowers - By Erland Cooper
Watching
The Matrix
A philosophical and cinematic triumph, oozing with style and brilliance.
Neo’s exiting of the matrix was one of the most arduous experiences imaginable. But the most important truth for each of us to explore. It is hiding in plain sight.
Reading
I am a matchmaker and here’s how I found love
“You deserve the healthiest form of love.” - Julie Nguyen
My 0ne wrote a piece about how we came to be. Being with her has forever transformed me into a better person. But I needed to be ready to receive her.
I’ve been through many of my own cycles of death and rebirth. Though difficult, I have undying gratitude for those experiences and lessons. They instilled in me a deep appreciation for every little expression of care. And an openness to new perspectives and possibilities I could have never imagined.
Self-care
Meditation, naps, volleyball, ocean, stretching, intermittent fasting, fascia work, hot baths, nature, gardening, nurturing friendship