The Sacrament of letting go
In our September 26th eZine I shared a poem by Macrina Wiederkehr called the “Sacrament of Waiting” (see below) about a tree letting go. The poem really struck a cord with many readers who responded with stories about releasing old structures, relationships, emotions, beliefs, even leaving a wonderful home of 30 years.
Are you facing changes or letting go of something you’ve been attached to?
Are you holding on to things that are ready to move on?
Are you ready and excited to let go?
One of the structures I’m letting go of this Fall is the “Timeless Wisdom Training”, with Thomas Huebl, a container created by Thomas and community of relationships with over a hundred beautiful souls whom I’ve enjoyed and shared deeply with during the past two years.
Anticipation of the training coming to an end has triggered many emotions in me, including sadness. AND, it’s also really exciting! I feel a growing JOY and curiosity about what will come in to fill the space that is opening.
I’ve come to the conclusion, over decades observing clients in my coaching practice and my own journey on the path of Letting Go, that we can only truly let go of something through fully feeling all the emotions that endings bring up in us.
Big or small, endings can feel like DEATH.
A “small death” could be hearing the news that a co-worker you’ve been close to got a new job and will be leaving soon. A “big death” could be the ending of a marriage.
How tenaciously we can cling to our attachments to people, places, and things! It’s common to resist or avoid simply feeling our emotions and yet, it’s through surrender into and through these feelings the new can arrive
THE FREEDOM TO LET GO IS FOUND IN THE FEELING OF BEING.
Take a moment and let this sentence sink in.
This is the freedom I wish for you, the next time you face an ending and the unknown of new beginnings.
THE SACRAMENT OF LETTING GO
© Macrina Wiederkehr
Slowly
she celebrated the sacrament of letting go.
First she surrendered her green,
then the orange, yellow, and red.
finally she let go of her own brown.
Shedding her last leaf
she stood empty and silent, stripped bare.
Leaning against the winter sky,
she began her vigil of trust.
Shedding her last leaf,
she watched it journey to the ground.
She stood in silence
wearing the colors of emptiness,
her branches wondering,
How do you give shade with so much gone?
And then,
the sacrament of waiting began.
The sunrise and the sunset watched with tenderness.
Clothing her with silhouettes
that kept her hope alive.
They helped her to understand that
her vulnerability,
her dependence and need,
her emptiness, her readiness to receive,
were giving her a new kind of Beauty.
Every morning and every evening they stood in silence,
and celebrated together
the sacrament of waiting.
