Letting Go - Walking the Road Less Traveled

Most of us don’t do “letting go” very well. Learning to “let go” is much talked about, but not easily accomplished, not a skill we easily perfect, though for some things, our culture has figured out ways to help us in the “letting go”…

Letting go of stuff? The minimalists will preach the Why and the How. The simplicity-gurus gladly intone the gospel of “just enough stuff” and lead you to the promised land of bare white walls, of kitchens stark and clean, of sleepy bedrooms in quiet grays and whites. You can wear one dress for 100 days; or winnow out your closet to 33 items. Really! It’s so simple, right?

Letting go of the detritus of years and years of our parents’ accumulated stuff? There are countless consultants and small companies that will gladly help you weed out the trash and treasures of accumulated lifetimes, how to let go of the dusty memories in china and crystal and silver - for a small (or not so small) fee, of course.

Letting go of despair and depression and heartache? No need for me to tally the millions of therapists and counselors who will take on the task with you, and show you just how to “let go”.

Don’t get me wrong - I loudly applaud these attempts at helping us, as a society, “let go” of things that aren’t so important, of things that weigh us down, that keep us from realizing our true value, our worth, our potential. Personally, I am a minimalist, and I’ve done my fair share of “down-sizing” my home and “stuff” already, emptying out the larger home where we raised our family, and moving to a smaller home that is simple, uncluttered, and contains just what we need to live a good, but simple life. I, too, have shrunk my closet to contain far fewer items, in curated colors that go together easily; my “favorite” dresses and pants and tops in one closet are all that remain. And yes, Kent and I have each waded through thousands of items from our parents’ homes, and made painful decisions about what to keep - and what to give away. It wasn’t easy, but we did it, and we have vowed our children will have a far easier time of it when it’s their turn to downsize us into a small apartment or room (though I do pray it will never come to that).

But I want to look at another kind of “letting go” that is much harder to do; a “letting go” that cannot be done by anyone other than me, anyone other than you — a personal purging that brings not just “simplicity”, but brings peace and freedom to our hearts in the “letting go”. You and I can read about it, and learn about the how and why to do this kind of “letting go”, this personal purging of which I speak — but it is a much harder journey, a road rarely taken. This “road less traveled” is a rocky one, sometimes dark, often lonely - but in my personal opinion? A road that is far more valuable and far more satisfying than any other form of “letting go”. As the poet Robert Frost wrote, “And it has made all the difference.” [1]

This type of letting go requires prayer and introspection, a drilling-down into the very depths of our hearts and souls, the digging up of demons and monsters that go “bump in the night”, these ancient ghosts that wake us up at 3:00 am of a morning (what my friend used to call “the wretched wolfing hour”) - that hour of deepest darkness when our fears and anxieties torment us until we fall into exhausted sleep - or dawn creeps in to end the agony.

This type of “letting go” is for those who care not just about themselves - but about others, because this kind of “letting go” goes to the heart of the matter; literally - to the deep places in our hearts where we hang on to our wounds, our disappointments, our hurts. It requires us to weed through the heaps of junk in the dusty corners of our past, the hardened wrecks of old emotions in our souls, and to consciously decide whether it’s time to let it go - once and for all. I think you’d be amazed at just how much our behavior - especially those unexpected outbursts of negative emotional energy- is fueled by the deep wounds and scars of bygone days. I know I was.

For me? It’s often about the letting go of my pride, my desire to “be right”, my longing to be seen, to be recognized. And for sure - it’s not pretty. In my repeated journey into the dark corners of my heart where I’ve stored up those old wounds that never healed, the disappointments that never resolved, I’ve come to recognize that often, what makes me tick today is a visceral (and often unexpected) reaction to something that happened to me 40, 50 - even 60 years ago. I’ve come to realize that the only way I can deal with today’s pride is to let go of yesterday’s wounds. The only way I can let go of my desire to “be right” is to let go of yesterday’s insecurities and shame. Once I let them go, I have the breath and space to move forward, and be who I was really meant to be all along. It is a purging of the highest order, a holy work that is necessary if we are to have any hope for ourselves - or the world.

I have also come to learn that simply because I’ve let go of a wound, an old hurt, a deep disappointment, there’s no guarantee that it won’t come back; actually it often does, haunting that wretched wolfing hour once again when my defenses are down, and my vulnerability to the “what ifs” and the “I shoulda, coulda’s” sits hard upon my chest. I’ve come to see that it takes courage, yes; but it also takes a supernatural humility - the kind that comes from God’s grace alone, directly from His hand. I have no power to persevere in the face of these haunting wounds, but with prayer and grace, I move a step closer to that freedom to be me- the real me I was created to be. They are small steps - but each one brings me closer to that place. With God’s grace, the wounds begin to heal; they scar over and become nearly invisible, smooth and lovely - a witness to yesterday’s hurts, but powerless in today’s grace. With His grace and His strength to persevere, these old hurts and disappointments fade into a past that is beyond my reach, outside the power of the wretched wolfing hour. With God’s grace, I can do this “letting go” - and it feels free and wonderful and - yes, holy. It truly is a holy work.

This kind of letting go, once begun, is addicting, and so I warn you: if you embark on this journey, you will likely not want to turn back. God has an uncanny way about Him; He lures us in, thinking it’s all about us, when in reality - this letting go? It’s really about who we are in relationship to others. Because you see - when I let go of my pride, I don’t need to argue with anyone about who or what is right. It doesn’t matter. When I let go of old wounds and let God’s grace heal them, I have the space in my heart to listen to others without judgment. When I let go of disappointments and old anger, there is now space in my heart for forgiveness and mercy. When I let go of my puffed-up self, I have the humility to see others as they are - and love them right where they sit, or stand - right where they live. And the feeling of being safe in my own skin, of accepting my wounded, broken self just as I am? There is no greater blessing, no greater peace.

It’s about “letting go”, about taking the road less traveled; the road often not taken.

I’ve been walking this road awhile. It’s beautiful. And I’m not going back.

[1] “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken.