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

On Becoming

The past few years has been all about finding myself once again. As young children I thing we instinctively know who we are and as we grow older we tend to complicate things. Social pressure, people pleasing, and the big one; choosing fear over love.  Fear of not being enough, failure, not being able to support ourselves and our families.

We eventually take on a role of who we are ‘expected’ to be, always on some level. Our inner truth slowly gets pushed back down and we become one, living amongst the masses.

Yet deep inside our inner child lies dormant, just waiting to be resurrected once again. Our inner child, such an imaginative creature.

Maybe awakening is more about becoming more in tune with that child once again. But so many of us have been hardened by the stark reality of a very cruel world.. Until, something happens. It can be as simple as falling in love, discovering a renewed interest is something we were once passionate about, it can be through a series of losses.  Hope is renewed once again and we find ourselves feeling a need to protect this inner child, fight for her.  Children can become our greatest teachers if we are open. The look of wonder in a child’s eyes, their unwavering faith and deep belief in magic.  We brush them off as naive, immature, but maybe we are the ones who who are disillusioned.

i am slowly finding my way back to the dream state, embracing my inner child once again. The girl who was never affirmed, viewed as ‘too emotional’.  I want to be just like her when I grow up.image