Every morning, I wake up.
And then I just let go.
I let go of the day before. Finally. It takes my slumber to do so.
And I let go of tomorrow too. Preemptively.
I look at what’s directly in front, that moment, those minutes.
That (and only that) is what helps me out of bed.
I let go of my quest for perfection.
To look perfect, and be perfect, and behave perfectly, and speak perfectly, and love perfectly.
Love is not perfect, so I let it go.
I vow to love as best I can.
I let go of expectations—the ones I have for myself, and the ones I have for you.
I let go of judgments—those I harbor within myself, for myself, and those I harbor for you.
Judgments and expectations do not serve my spirit. Or yours for that matter.
I let go of impatience.
Impatience is such a selfish thing.
And I let go of some of my lofty, faraway goals.
Goals are good, but if they are unidentifiable because of their distance from me, if they are merely elusive, cloudy dreams, I simply let them float away.
I let go of blame.
Blame is a selfish thing too.
I try like hell to let go of my insecurities. There are many, so this takes time.
And I try like hell to let go of my resentments. There are some, and they are poison.
Resentments are sour pickles, left in the fridge too long.
I breathe out my tears, exhale my fears, and I let go of all my “past history” years.
Regrets are filled with pining sorrow, and I will not hold space for them in my heart or head.
I try really hard to let go of pain—the stuff I carry around. The heavy, life-sapping, exhausting stuff. I let go of my basket full of wiggling, blood-sucking worms.
I let it go, I watch as it dissolves into nothing, right into the day—and that nothing becomes something that no longer hurts me in any way.
I let go of all the advice, and all the self-improvement platitudes. All the well-intended words.
Words become dust in the wind. I send those words right down the river to fill up the sea.
It is action, not words that has always set me free.
I let go of the need to be everything to everyone all the time.
I let go of my need to feel needed.
Every morning, I wake up, and then I just let go.
And I just am. I let myself be.
And that’s when I feel the most powerful.
Filled with fire and a freshness fierce.
Filled to the brim with promise and mindful presence.
I am unknown, to myself, to you, and I am an adventurer.
I am a listener, a seeker.
I eat some prayers for breakfast, and I sip on a warm cup of ideas.
I act on impulse, which is the opposite of my nature.
I am careful, but I do not hesitate.
Miraculously, that seems to open doors.
Doors to life. My life.
My beating, seeping, divine, and ever-creeping,
One and only life.
The moment in front is all I ever need.