Letting Go

By the time you are reading this, the current situation with my mouth will have been resolved. I am, as ever, a triumph of hope over experience, and a happy user of the post scheduler on Substack, so this news is delayed.

Recently, I was having trouble with my teeth, and the start of this dates back long ago to my teenage years living in Africa, where dentists got paid per filling. This created a foundation that was bound to cause trouble in later life. I was tempted to have them all removed and to have false teeth, till an expert pointed out that my mouth shape may change, my voice could be affected, and as a lot of my work involves speaking in public, I may not want a plate dropping at an inopportune moment. I have been exploring other options. The irony of this post being about letting go is not lost on me, so it was high time I let go of this old story and simply faced the reality of the state of my mouth now.

In a nearby Welsh village, I have discovered a lovely young lady dentist, and I knew as soon as I walked into the surgery that I could trust her. Which brings me to a recent visit, where two teeth were being extracted. It wasn’t funny as my jaw was not keen on letting go, and after a considerable time of struggle, physical on the part of my dentist and mental for me, we called time. The teeth are out, but a few stubborn roots remain, and by the time you read this, an oral surgeon will have resolved the issue.

It was during the struggle that I took my mind off on a wander. Anything was preferable to being present in that chair!

I took a journey to many moments where I’ve made my life tricky by not letting go. This is a popular phrase, and the theme and suggestions that follow hold many meanings.

We are exhorted and assured that our lives will be better if we could just let go of old beliefs, stories, assumptions that may have become fact (to us) over the years, clutter, clothing and patterns of behaviour.

Physical clutter has never been one of my favourite things, as I prefer order and items having their place. I have travelled light throughout my life, and especially since my Dad passed away and we faced his lifetime collection. Tim and I regularly tidy and clear out, and I am the one friends turn to when they are faced with a mess.

Patterns of behaviour are another thing I endeavour to be aware of. If I catch myself doing something because I have always done it that way, then I try and bring fresh thinking to the mix.

We all adapt to life. We grow and adjust as nothing stays the same. Yet the old beliefs we carry can become dusty and entrenched. Our beliefs of faith and our core values on how we are and how we treat others are open to change. Old beliefs that were gifted to us by our parents and peers are also open to change. These are harder ones to acknowledge, as they are woven into the fabric of how we perceive ourselves.

Old stories are another web that can catch us. Someone may have done or said something that hurt, and we have woven it into our story. I heard a line during an interview recently that gave me pause for thought. Someone was sharing a comment that an adult had made when she was at college, aged just nineteen. That comment had stayed with her, and it still hurt over three decades later. The chap she was talking to gently said, ‘She may have made that comment, but you decided to hold onto it this long.’ The lady rocked back in her seat, and he kindly gave her time to absorb what he had just said. She ended up thanking him for his frank and thoughtful response.

We can so easily adopt moments of hurt into our story.

My sticking point is relationships; friendships and romantic ones. I am fiercely loyal, and regardless of evidence, I can hold on for far longer than I ought. After all, it always feels kinder to give people the benefit of the doubt. If I can, I try and check if they meant what they just said or did, but that is not always possible. Plus, I am prone to go silent when I am hurt, so a conversation doesn’t naturally follow. I am also prone to make excuses for others, or I remind myself that I may not have the full picture of their situation, as that feels like a loving reaction.

It is highly likely that none of us truly knows what is going on in another’s life, and therein lies the trap. Warning signals start coming, and each time they get bigger. Out of loyalty and loving kindness, I usually make excuses for them and try to see the bigger picture.

Experience has taught me that my instinct is the best yardstick. Not my emotions, but my inner knowing that what I am witnessing is a true picture that is calling me to make choices.

Nature has been my best teacher. Each autumn season, the trees shed that year’s growth, unafraid to stand bare to face the harshest weather as they go within for the winter months. Nurturing their roots, buried deep in the soil and attached to the foundation of nature and each other. Till spring and the warmer weather start to arrive, and new buds burst forth and their cycle of life starts again.

It feels like a cycle for us. Each season we can assess (if we wish to), let go, adjust and adapt and then let new buds grow. Just like the trees, some leaves do not fall. Some buds do not flourish. Yet we keep growing. 💚