Letting Go
I'm stuck. My usual ability to maintain focus and commitment disappeared like the full moon. Slices reappear. Yesterday I kept two calendar appointments. With the rest of the day's scheduled commitments, I procrastinated, started and stopped activities, made a list and misplaced it, and was grateful the list was lost. I won’t allow anything to urge me into reluctant action.
There are deadlines pending; they are distracting but uninspiring. I look for reasons why this, whatever it is, is happening. There’s an irrelevant belief that if I understand the cause, I can change the effect. Wanting to fix it – to shift it – is halfhearted. How do I describe this? Malaise? I’m not sure that's the right word, and I’m definitely not interested in looking it up. Kids use the phrase, “Yah, Whatever.” It fits. (I was about to add an exclamation mark, but it implies more enthusiasm than I feel.
Movement in the woods outside my window catches my eye. A stray leaf flutters in the winter wind twisting and turning in no rush – floating with no destination – finally coming to rest on the pond. Often nature models lessons for me.
I too am settled in my landing place, at rest here on the couch cozy under my warm duvet. I swat at the “shoulds” buzzing in my head: should get up; should answer emails; should drink water; should make calls; should exercise; should get gas.
I remember something Lenny Bruce said:
“There is no what should be,
there is only what is.”
I take my cue from nature and Lenny Bruce. Letting go is freeing.