Letting Go With Love

Dragonflies were all around me this past weekend. They are symbols of change and transformation.

Dragonflies were all around me this past weekend. They are symbols of change and transformation.

The theme for weeks now has been letting go. And I am doing a pretty decent job of that. So far I have let go of worrying about my grown children --and instead say prayers to keep them surrounded by protective light and positivity. I have let go of doing, and have moved toward just being. I now after years of constant motion, finally allow myself to relax and say "no" when I feel the need. When a to-do list (former accomplishment freak here) begins to take over my head, I breathe deeply and just think of the most immediate thing I need to do, and I start (and sometimes even end) right there.

Perhaps the hardest part of letting go is watching those I care about in various stages of suffering and recognize that unless I am asked, it is not my deal to fix.

My "spidey sense" always sees right down to the heart of most matters, and it always sees possible solutions. I've come to learn that just because I see a possible solution does not mean I need to do anything about it. That part is the most difficult thing to let go of. I hate to see people hurting and I want to help, but I also have learned the hard way --it is not my deal. Everyone has their own lessons to learn, their own journey to take--just as I have mine.

I wonder if some people's ultimate life lesson is to learn to be vulnerable enough to ask for help. To stop trying to do things all by themselves and to be open to considering things from another perspective. I especially wonder this when I see people miss multiple opportunities to learn a lesson, and repeat the same mistakes without much growth or awareness. Sometimes I wish they'd ask for help---and really be ready to hear what I have to say.

Being empathic and recently understanding that I can keep my energy separate from the energy of others around me, has proven invaluable in keeping my peaceful inner center and my focus more properly directed inward.

"This is me (drawing an imaginary circle around myself) and this is you (drawing the same imaginary circle around the other person). This visual helps me keep myself in check. Although I can feel your pain, and read your emotions, the responsibility to do something to alleviate that pain is not mine. Where I once used to take on your pain as my own, I now am able to feel it and discern it isn't mine, and let it go. At least for now. At least until you ask me for help.

Empathy is an interesting thing. So many years I lived and loved clueless that not everyone lived and loved in the same way I did. It all makes so much sense now. And, well, it brings up a lot of questions, too.

It for sure makes me sorry for sticking my nose in where it did not belong. For offering help when I was not  actually asked.

To my kids: I truly did not understand that I experienced the world differently.  I wanted to smooth the bumps in the road that I saw so clearly ahead for you. Silly me, I thought it would save you the suffering. I never meant to take away your power. I did not ever wish to make you feel less than. And I have certainly never stopped believing in you.

My years of barging through barriers are over. I plan to stay centered, yet ready to help when I am asked. I'm here if you need help. Always. Because I have "let go" does not mean that I love you less, it just means I recognize that your struggle is YOUR struggle. Your lesson. And I cannot learn it for you, nor save you the pain of living it.

Just know that I will listen without judgment, and provide an armful of solutions should you wish for them. I am here when you are ready.

It feels really good to finally get it.