On the third day, I asked what I should tell you. I lifted the question up for the universe and the answer came clearly and loudly in my ears. Letting go. This is not easy for me to do, to let go and allow – allow what must happen to happen, what needs to happen, and not let fears creep in. Old fears, new ones, any fears to tip toe their way into my heart and take up residence with the cobwebs and dust. They sit amongst the brighter places where the sun has broken through the cracks and sprawled out like cats, sleeping happily. I bring them all in and instead of letting go, make more and more room there for everything that arrives. There is a tower of discarded thoughts and memories in the corner, leaning precariously against the wall and to me, when I look at it, is ready to slip out from the middle at any moment to send the entire thing crashing down once again. The question rises up too if it happens, will I choose to rebuild that tower again? Will I take the time to sweep it all out and throw open the windows and let the shadows stretch and dance with the light? Perhaps.
It’s normal to hear these days, someone telling us to let go. We must let go is the constant message, let go of this and that, let go of anger, let go of fear, let go of worry, let go of concern, let go of ideas and old conditions… you, we must let go. That would not be my gift today for you – to tell you to let go. I cannot let go myself, so how can I tell you to let go? No, it is like the wind through my fingers, difficult to grasp. It is like holding poetry or the flying of a butterfly, I cannot do it – cannot let go… of that, or of you. Ah, for some reason now after having written those words to you, I am laughing – where does this cannot come from?? It is as though I am suddenly a three year old child, standing in the middle of the living room of my home, blond pig tails flapping while I stomp my foot. NO. I say, NO I CANNOT! And then the sigh comes that relaxes everything, and I find instead I am chasing the breath, my breath, instead of the words cannot and no. This is good.
My gift today is not to let go, but simply this – breathe.
And it all falls away.
There is nothing to do except breathe.