Letting Go
Contents
I picked up my steno pad today. One of the one's Gretchen got me from her office. I opened it to the page listing the ways to let go. I copied the list from a new age bookstore in North Reddington Beach, Florida.
I realize that I have had a lot of trouble letting go in my life. I still haven't let go of Karen, Gretchen, for example.
I wonder why they don't teach kids how to let go. It seems to be pretty helpful information.
I realize that getting attached to things and people is a sign of insecurity. So much leads us back to the basic issue of fear.
I think of what Depak Chopra said about detaching. Actually, I don't remember just what he said, but I know that he said something profound about it, and something about letting go of the outcomes. Whatever it was, it helped a little bit.
People have often advised me, "forget about it," "give it up," "get over it." But it is not that easy for me. I don't know that it is that easy for anyone. I don't know that even the people who try to command me thus are able to do it. Perhaps the reason they insist that I do it is because they know that they can't. I think Freud had a term for that.
I think of Gretchen's mom telling Gretchen to "just get over it." Then Gretchen expected me to do exactly that when she was tired of me calling her.
I still don't understand what her motives were. Were they to hurt me? If so, wouldn't she take pleasure in knowing that she succeeded? Why wouldn't she want to hear from me? Wouldn't that tell her that she was important enough to me for me to still remember her years later? But maybe she thinks that if she would have paid me I would have forgotten about her. Maybe that is true.
Actually I didn't think of her much before I tried to collect my money. Then again, I was dating Sue-- or I think I was. I don't remember just when I started dating Sue. I could figure it out if I tried. I have it all in my journal.
I do remember Sue being there with me when I sat on the beach after reading Gretchen's last letter to me. Time has helped me forget just what her exact words were. I suppose I could think of them if I tried. But why bring back the pain. The pain is near now, I feel it approaching.
I didn't mean to write about Gretchen again. So many emotional paths lead back to her. So many unanswered questions that seek satisfaction.
But what I did want to write about was letting go. That was my purpose in starting this file. I will call it a file, since I am typing it on the computer. For the record, I am at Sheila's Studio Farm somewhere Zepher Ontario, Canada. The house reminds me a lot of the Leacock home I visited yesterday. I am sitting in a room filled with old chairs and books, listening to the birds chirp, feeling the gentle breeze which rustles the lace curtains as it slips in and out the windows.
I want to write a few of the items from the list, then tear the page out and throw it away. I brought the steno pad with me so I could read it and decide what to enter into my computer. Then I will throw away the pad. It will be once less thing to weigh me down. It will bring me one step closer to my goal of freedom and mobility. Yesterday I was called a drifter. One can't drift if one is weighed down with steno pads and memories of lost loves.
So, to continue....
Here are my adaptations of the a few items on the list:
To let go....
doesn't mean you stop caring, it means you can't fix someone else
is not to cut all connections, but to cut a few here and lengthen a few there
is not to punish but to allow learning from natural consequences
is not to admit defeat or powerlessness, but to realize the outcome is not in my hands
is to spend time filling my own needs and plugging the drainholes created by others' unmet needs
is to do what I need to do to take care of myself, knowing I can't be of much help to anyone if I am slowly dying
is not to judge, but to seek understanding and acceptance
is to stop teach teaching helplessness by overprotecting and underestimating the ability of others
is to move from denial to acceptance; from feeling defensive to reflective
is to stop nagging, arguing and scolding
is to stop focussing on that which you wish would change, but which is out of your control
is to focus your thoughts on that which you can control: your own mind and attitude
is to stop wanting things to be different and to start making them different
is not to regret what was or wasn't, or what might have been, it is to learn, grow and prepare for the future
is to invest in yourself; to invest time and mental energy on your own mental and emotional health
is to pursue your own goals, dreams and plans while leaving all doors open to the future possibilities
Personal thoughts continued...
I realize that Gretchen was just doing what she needed to do. She didn't know of anything else to do. Maybe she wasn't really trying to hurt me. Maybe she was just trying to heal her own wounds. Maybe someday we will talk again. Maybe we will hug again. Maybe we will laugh again. It helps me let go to think of these things. Maybe I am just fooling myself. But I still believe that she is a good person. I never hated her. I never wanted to see her dead, as I did with Galina. I never even called her the common derogatory names. She is no %^&*$. She is and always will be a special person. She must have really been in pain to treat me the way she did. But maybe it is wrong to even say that she was "treating me" a certain way. Maybe it had almost nothing to do with me. Maybe it was mostly about her own efforts to detach, to distance herself and protect herself from pain. We take things personally, those of us who are co-dependent. But maybe it really has almost nothing to do with us and almost everything to do with the other person. If I was responsible for something, I want to know. I want to apologize, to make restitution. Is that a natural instinct? Or is it something we learn in dysfunctional families? To try to please, to seek approval, to need to be forgiven? I don't know. Probably, like everything, it is a combination. Damn. Damn my dysfunctional past. Will it ever leave me? Or must I be haunted by it for the rest of my life? How much have my neural pathways been permanently wired? How many of them can I change? When I am under intense stress, will I downshift to my deep program of revenge, retaliation and hostility?
Possibly, but I have seen that there are many times when I have been able to re-route the circuits, so this gives me a feeling of encouragement. If I can't completely re-do myself, then I will re-wire as much as I can. Perhaps it is like the wires in a building. Some wires can be replaced more easily than others. Some circuits re-done. But we are limited by the structure of the building itself. One can't run verticle wires very far in a horizontal building. How many walls to knock out, how many new floors can be supported? Are their wires and explosives hidden deep in the foundation?
Slowly I am discovering the true nature of this structure. Slowly I am rearranging it. I am pleased with my progress. The reconstruction continues.
As I finish this list, and put the title on the top, tears come to my eyes. It is so much more than words can say. I write about these things now feeling somehow detached and connected at the same time. I haven't done a good job of leaving doors open to former loves in my life. I haven't done a good job of leaving people with the desire to keep a door open for me. I still feel tormented. I want to press my head and squeeze out the reality. I want to make it like it never happened. All I can do now is write about it, it seems. And hope that my words will make a difference for someone else. Actually, I don't put much value in hope by itself. It is much stronger to say that I know that my words will make a difference. At the very least, they will add a few more connections in my brain, a few more paths to follow if and when the time comes again that I need to let go.
June 11,1999