just let it go …

this is one of my most triggering things to hear.

 

I absolutely hate it when someone tells me to let something go.

 

Contemplating just what exactly is it about this particular phrase that just gets under my skin.

I checked in with my body.

And I landed on something juicy.

 

Regardless of the thing you need to let go of is in service to you, it’s fundamentally important.

It’s important to you.

Saying “just let go” is like spiritual gaslighting – and we do it to ourselves all of the time.

 

Our mind, trying to convince us with logic about why it’s smart to “let go” of the thing, but the body knows something the mind does not.

It’s important somehow.

And whenever we ignore something important, it persists.

The longer it persists, the harder it is to “let go”.

And so goes the cycle of mind-fucking ourselves, internal and external gaslighting of something internal – something deeply important – that just wants to be seen.

 

Full acknowledgement is highly underrated.

We skip over so many uncomfortable things – things that await in the body just waiting to be listened to, without judgement.

 

Judgement.

That’s another layer to this whole “letting go” thing.

 

When I hear someone say “let it go”, what the deepest part of my system hears is:

~ it’s not important

~ you’re not important

~ you’re wrong to think/feel that

~ there’s something wrong with how you’re dealing with that

 

The thing I want to hear is this:

~ I see you

~ It’s ok to feel/experience that

~ You’re allowed to feel that way

 

Surprisingly, once full permission is granted to fully feel the thing – for as long as needed (this can be years and years by the way … there is no “correct” timeline), the need to hold on softens.

 

The tender things we hold onto require love, compassion, and deep holding.

To jettison without care feels to me somehow dishonourable – like a death without proper funeral and burial rites.

 

Even as I write this, I’m reminded in my own past and history where I had been robbed of my own rites to closure.

Perhaps this is why I see the importance of ritual for even the smallest thing.

I know in my bones the impact that it carries.

 

So honour all that holds you.

Even the crunchy parts.

Hold them with love and reverence.

Let them be seen only by the most compassionate of witnesses.

 

And they will unravel when they – and you – are both ready.