Letting Go (Is Your Becoming)

[Mostly I am documenting this for myself. But if it helps you, too, then awesome.]

I am not going to lie, letting go of something is a painful process. Whether it is a relationship, a feeling, an image of ourselves, or whatever- the process of letting go can sometimes feel like something inside of us is actually ripping apart. Like muscle being torn from itself.

I think it feels this way when we do any level of changing. What’s even tougher is when we must let go of something that our heart wants but our soul knows we must move beyond.

The pain here is worse than anything else I’ve known because the heart and the soul are in opposition to each other. The desires of both are strong, but only one is the best course of action for healing and growth. And that is fucking painful and it. fucking. sucks.

::: ::: ::: :::

Why trust the soul is correct? Because my heart, while big and beautiful and so full of love, will ruin herself if left to make all the choices. She would love everyone, all the time, forever, even if it hurt or killed her. The soul knows that boundaries are good.

As well, I trust my soul over my heart because I believe in karma. And my heart could (and has) made such a mess of things sometimes. I have piled karma on myself and then had to live through that, as well. Listening to the guidance of my soul usually means there is less mess created in myself and others. Doesn’t mean it isn’t hard, though.

What I am learning in this current space of letting go is that this horrible, heart-wrenching pain is actually a birth. As I let go, I swirl into a place of unknowns. And in the place of unknowns, I have the chance to become something new. Letting go is the process of birth from one version of myself to another.

::: ::: ::: :::

This is how it looks to let go, inside of myself [actually, it’s a lot more violent than this at times, but this gets you the idea]

Things are coming apart, shearing away from each other, and dissipating.

In my life, letting go looks like:

  • not giving a fuck about the laundry for a few days
  • crying whenever I feel like it
  • journalling like crazy
  • pulling myself back into my body as often as I remember to <– so, super helpful
  • remembering why I am letting go in the first place
  • loving myself through everything (no self hate or judgment; it is what it is)
  • accepting the lack of desire for food
  • I let the Universe dress me (‘what shall we wear today?’ I ask – we feel the vibe until it’s right, however that may look)
  • napping
  • holding the feeling of ‘letting go’ in my body
  • using images like a hand opening or pushing away from shore in a boat to help my mind understand what we are doing

Remembering Yoda’s dope advice:

Listening to:

“All Over You” by Live
“It’s Over Now” by Cause + Effect (when in the Letting Go space, I pretend I am the one being sung to with this 90s club hit. When in the Becoming space I pretend I am the singer.)
Loud is good.
And when softness is needed, “No Envy, No Fear” by Joshua Radin and
“Hold Back the River” by James Bay [because you can never hold back the river].

::: ::: ::: :::

For months now, I have been collecting pictures of open, loft spaces. I love them for a lot of reasons, but in the place where Letting Go and Becoming are both true, I feel like an open loft.

Big open space.

Lots of white.

Very little decoration or furniture in my internal world.

A feeling of numbness sometimes.

The body understanding that this is where you come to when you do actually let go – a space of nothingness.

And it’s kind of scary to be here, too.
[Most people who change only change a little bit of themselves, so that they don’t entirely lose touch with who they are and who they believe themselves to be. Being in an open, calm, numb space scares the hell out of most people.]

This is the space of surrender, I believe. Fulling letting go and knowing we can no longer control the old situation.

This is the place where I can really begin to imagine and feel that something new might be on the way. This is where you are when you let go of one rope and have not grabbed hold of the other.

It is a very sacred space. Every option in the world is here, right now. You can become what you believe is next, or you can listen quietly for the direction of your soul.

 

There is no music for me here. It is good to be quiet + numb + patient + aware.

I pray a lot here, and listen with an open heart and soul.

::: ::: ::: :::

And then, my becoming. To me, this is not the opposite of the Letting Go, it is iterating into the new; we take what’s useful from the past with us and build something new. It looks like this:

It is the gathering of clues as to what is next.

I hold the Becoming in my body: the feelings of my sensuality and sexuality + my divinity + my brokenness + curiosity about who I am in this moment.

  • I wear the underthings that make me feel like a sex bomb + ninja warrior + empress.
  • I cry whenever I feel like it.
  • I journal like crazy.
  • I eat things that please me and who I am becoming.
  • The laundry can still fuck off
  • I love myself every moment, every way, every emotion.

I buy new lipstick that can be armor or seduction. (And a fake nose ring, because why not?)

  • I put on the earrings that feel like they are a few steps ahead of me; I will grow into them.
  • I sign up for the class- to move in new ways, to be a beginner and practice failing some more.
  • I pray guidance + gratitude + patience. I listen like a lover- attentive to each detail. I remain soft and quiet with my new soul, new heart, new self.
  • I turn toward the love that surrounds me and drink. it. in.

I dance like this: anything that makes my hips roll or my back undulate.
“Trip Switch” by Nothing but Thieves and
“Ride” by 21 Pilots
[Because this is a new space, I don’t want my songs for the year. These two are slow and speak to me of what my body is becoming, which will guide my mind as well.]

And I listen for the prayers and clues that are all around me.
Fresh rain today.
Snippets of books + paragraphs + maps of words to my soul.
The way my tea tastes.
The feel of my pen.
My stovepipe jeans and black leather boots (which have held me in all these spaces).
Feeling loved.

::: ::: ::: :::

The process never really ends. I will move between these places, in a whirl of letting go + opening + becoming, until the next me is here. And she and I will live together for a while- loving me up, loving up life- and then it will be time to iterate again.

We are always becoming. 

 

 

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