Lessons: Verse Two
Here's to another installment of lessons I'm learning; the ones I don't intend to learn, but somehow end up being the most life changing.
3. Usually, to hold onto something, you also have to let go of something; and, most importantly, vice versa.
This is something that occurred to me after an ordinary journal entry. I had written this freeform poem about how much support there is around "letting people in" and being vulnerable... but perhaps there's a lack of support around letting people out. I started wrestling with this quandary and wondering what I would say to someone if they asked me how to let someone or something go? I don't think I have answers by any means, but I do have a thought. I know for all the things I've tried to hold onto, what was most helpful in the process was letting go, being flexible, and holding things loosely. Loosely, yet somehow much more dearly, as an Enneagram song called "One" by Sleeping at Last notes. Anyway, I started wondering if it works in reverse as well, and I think it does. Perhaps, if letting go of things is the key to holding them dearly, maybe holding onto things is the key to letting them go? A friend of mine must have known this principle when she gave me the following advice:
"Rachel, you won't forget everything. You won't. So, remember it all. Remember, and cherish it. Don't try to forget the good things or the bad things, remember them all. Thank them for the work they've done in your life, and keep remembering them. That way, they won't have power over you so much anymore."
Remembering, in an intentional way, filled with a grateful spirit, is one way that "holding on" can actually help you let go. But, more than that, holding on to something or someone who is stronger and more knowledgeable than you, can sometimes help you loosen your grip on fears. I think that's why in the Bible Jesus usually paired His assurances of "do not be afraid" with assurances of his identity or presence in the situation. You see, letting go most certainly is one of the stupidest things you could do, if you were concerned solely with self-preservation and protection. That's exactly why trusting Someone greater than yourself is, I think, one of the only ways you can truly let go of anything. I'll keep practicing and let you know if it works. Stay tuned.
4. Isolation isn't the antithesis of connection, distraction is.
This may not resonate with you at first glance. Trust me, it didn't sit well with me at first, either. As I've sat with it more, though, I've come to adore this lesson and I think it's as true as the North Star. I've had what I'd call an "easy" life, compared to many people I know, but at the same time, I've had a life that in some cases has demanded a certain type and amount of resiliency I have yet to master. In my attempts to heal, a lot of times I have ended up isolating, thinking I needed to "get away" from people in order to take care of myself, and that only once healed could I serve my community and engage with my friends well. My community and my communion suffered because of this misplaced action, and it actually made me believe that isolation didn't have a place in the life I wanted to live. As I swung into the opposite end of the spectrum, engaging, showing up, and being around people near-constantly, I realized I wasn't practicing the spiritual discipline of solitude. I was confused that both isolation, and over-involvement created a vast emptiness in my spirit, until I started practicing centering prayer regularly. It was in that light I realized that isolation is not my enemy, and in fact regular, intentional solitude actually prepared my heart and physical body to engage better with God and others. Isolation, then, isn't the foe that steals my fellowship, distraction is. It's the noise in my head, the onslaught of words whispered constantly in my mind's ear reminding me of all the things I could be doing, all the places I should be and haven't reached yet, and all the questions I should be asking but can't bring myself to. It's this noise—the kind that makes it impossible to be present with people even when you're surrounded by them—that's the true enemy of community and friendship. Not isolation itself, but psychological isolation; that's the real danger.
Two more lessons down! Happy Monday!
3. Usually, to hold onto something, you also have to let go of something; and, most importantly, vice versa.
This is something that occurred to me after an ordinary journal entry. I had written this freeform poem about how much support there is around "letting people in" and being vulnerable... but perhaps there's a lack of support around letting people out. I started wrestling with this quandary and wondering what I would say to someone if they asked me how to let someone or something go? I don't think I have answers by any means, but I do have a thought. I know for all the things I've tried to hold onto, what was most helpful in the process was letting go, being flexible, and holding things loosely. Loosely, yet somehow much more dearly, as an Enneagram song called "One" by Sleeping at Last notes. Anyway, I started wondering if it works in reverse as well, and I think it does. Perhaps, if letting go of things is the key to holding them dearly, maybe holding onto things is the key to letting them go? A friend of mine must have known this principle when she gave me the following advice:
"Rachel, you won't forget everything. You won't. So, remember it all. Remember, and cherish it. Don't try to forget the good things or the bad things, remember them all. Thank them for the work they've done in your life, and keep remembering them. That way, they won't have power over you so much anymore."
Remembering, in an intentional way, filled with a grateful spirit, is one way that "holding on" can actually help you let go. But, more than that, holding on to something or someone who is stronger and more knowledgeable than you, can sometimes help you loosen your grip on fears. I think that's why in the Bible Jesus usually paired His assurances of "do not be afraid" with assurances of his identity or presence in the situation. You see, letting go most certainly is one of the stupidest things you could do, if you were concerned solely with self-preservation and protection. That's exactly why trusting Someone greater than yourself is, I think, one of the only ways you can truly let go of anything. I'll keep practicing and let you know if it works. Stay tuned.
4. Isolation isn't the antithesis of connection, distraction is.
This may not resonate with you at first glance. Trust me, it didn't sit well with me at first, either. As I've sat with it more, though, I've come to adore this lesson and I think it's as true as the North Star. I've had what I'd call an "easy" life, compared to many people I know, but at the same time, I've had a life that in some cases has demanded a certain type and amount of resiliency I have yet to master. In my attempts to heal, a lot of times I have ended up isolating, thinking I needed to "get away" from people in order to take care of myself, and that only once healed could I serve my community and engage with my friends well. My community and my communion suffered because of this misplaced action, and it actually made me believe that isolation didn't have a place in the life I wanted to live. As I swung into the opposite end of the spectrum, engaging, showing up, and being around people near-constantly, I realized I wasn't practicing the spiritual discipline of solitude. I was confused that both isolation, and over-involvement created a vast emptiness in my spirit, until I started practicing centering prayer regularly. It was in that light I realized that isolation is not my enemy, and in fact regular, intentional solitude actually prepared my heart and physical body to engage better with God and others. Isolation, then, isn't the foe that steals my fellowship, distraction is. It's the noise in my head, the onslaught of words whispered constantly in my mind's ear reminding me of all the things I could be doing, all the places I should be and haven't reached yet, and all the questions I should be asking but can't bring myself to. It's this noise—the kind that makes it impossible to be present with people even when you're surrounded by them—that's the true enemy of community and friendship. Not isolation itself, but psychological isolation; that's the real danger.
Two more lessons down! Happy Monday!
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