Letting Go

                                                    Everyday is a brand new day,
                                                      everyday is a journey.

 

  And, as the path of duty is made plain,
  May grace be given that I may walk therein,
    Not like the hireling, for his selfish gain,
  With backward glances and reluctant tread,
  Making a merit of his coward dread,--
    But, cheerful, in the light around me thrown,
    Walking as one to pleasant service led;
    Doing God's will as if it were my own,
  Yet trusting not in mine, but in His strength alone!
J.G. WHITTIER.

Letting go is hard to do. It's late at night and that phrase has popped into my mind after a very turbulent, emotionally ridden day. Change, letting go or moving on is much easier to say rather than actually do. It's often referred to the ripping off the band-aid, it's sudden, painful and quick. 

I think the young have a harder time of accepting necessary change. They haven't learned how to cope along the edges of living life of hard rocks, knocks and what-be-nots. Life is messy and it's difficult. We will hurt as we move along, some growing faster than others. Some stuck deeply in the roots of weeds, refusing to let go.

It's funny how we are able to handle things as we age. Our stove has broke down twice now. I called the landlord, left a message and went out to Wal-mart to buy a hot plate. I did all that with a deadpan expression, shrugging off the disappointment. Why should I get upset? It will not change anything, the stove will still be broken. 

I have no idea why I feel so at peace here. The place needs work, remember the broken stove? Yet, my life seems so much easier. I sleep well, my stress levels are way down. Everything is close by within reach. My work is a blink away. I can drop everything, run over to my mom's for a quick run to the pharmacy or store or bank and still have plenty of time at home. 

When I was young, the opposite was true. I felt every emotion passionately  and with clenched fists. Letting go wasn't even on the agenda. It is the same with all the young that I know. A broken stove to Emily is like the end of the world. She needs to cook and bake to release. . . to let go. To a friend of ours, a disappointment in a boyfriend ends in a night spent crying. Another, a broken down car, leading to a glass filled with an alcoholic beverage. 

Depression. Anger. Loneliness. Letting go. Wasn't it not too long ago that I sat and reacted just like them? When did letting go become so easy? When has letting go stopped hurting? Maybe, just maybe, I've released what is worth getting upset over and what isn't. A broken stove isn't as bad as getting radiation. I'd rather have a broken stove, Yes, definitely a broken stove.

Have a blessed day everyone.