Release and the Beauty of Letting Go

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, surrender does not equal defeat.
It is the act of letting go that begins a deeper inner process of transformation. Acknowledging that there are just some things in life we have absolutely no control over. The process leading to surrender is messy and exhausting, it’s supposed to be.
Surrender, we loosen our grip, open our trembling hands and release.

This seems like such a paradox to many. We are conditioned to hold on to those things we value most.
But the truth is, with this single act of letting go, the recognition that some things are just so sacred, so very valuable, so pure that we must place them under the care and protection of something higher than ourselves.

We acknowledge our limitations and in a single act of release comes freedom to fly.

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, surrender does not equal defeat.
It is the act of letting go that begins a deeper inner process of transformation. Acknowledging that there are just some things in life we have absolutely no control over. The process leading to surrender is messy and exhausting, it’s supposed to be.
Surrender, we loosen our grip, open our trembling hands and release.

This seems like such a paradox to many. We are conditioned to hold on to those things we value most.
But the truth is, with this single act of letting go, the recognition that some things are just so sacred, so very valuable, so pure that we must place them under the care and protection of something higher than ourselves.

We acknowledge our limitations and in a single act of release comes freedom to fly.
This freedom is so frightening to us, it’s unpredictable and carries a risk of painful loss. Yet, it also carries the potential of return.

We release

Because, although the cage feels safe and secure, we must experience the sweet taste of freedom as we fly high into the limitless blue sky.

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
-Maya Angelou

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