It Takes Courage to Tell the Truth — The Journey of Loving and Letting Go
They say that “time heals all.” I would agree. I recently ended a long-term relationship and although the ending process began months ago, my heart is still tender. I sensed what was true and yet I was reluctant to admit to myself that it was time to let go of this deeply sweet relationship.
Being honest with ourselves does not necessarily mean that we get what we want. It means that we surrender to what is true. The maturation process insists that we apprentice ourselves to the experience of being attached to our preferences. We are invited to align with what is true, which will create harmony in the bigger picture.
Telling the truth is a relentless act of courage which invites strength and tempers the heart.
I summoned up my courage when I received a text from the man with whom I’d been in relationship as a pang of longing, tinged with sadness washed through my heart. I recognized that even though my life is gracefully re-organizing itself around being single, the connection I feel to him remains.
Feelings don’t just disappear in the face of formally concluding a relationship. Letting go requires time and space apart. Each connection we have reignites the flame of love we’ve shared with another.
Change is a process. It’s like when you realize your body no longer wants to eat eggs for breakfast even though it has thrived on them for years, or when a pair of pants becomes too small for a child as they go through a growth spurt. The eggs and the pants are no longer a fit. Naturally, our relationship with eggs and pants differs from an intimate connection and the fact remains that something no longer fits. In the case of intimate relationship, we may find that a host of uncomfortable emotions arises to be met.
It takes a discerning mind and a heaping tablespoon of courage to acknowledge when a cycle is complete.
Most of us are scared and sometimes we wonder, ‘Will I be alone forever if I let go of what I have?’ I know that I have been prone to this kind of thinking myself at times.
Letting go is scary. Letting go is courageous. We must breathe deeply and open wider to trust. Trust and discernment are a powerful combination.
The best way I know to cultivate discernment is to consistently practice mindfulness. As you do, things clarify, the mind becomes quiet, and you are better able to see things for what they are, rather than unconsciously projecting your desires and aversions on to the movie screen called life.
As humans we enter into relationships to learn, and to awaken parts of ourselves that might otherwise remain dormant.
I am thankful for the many parts of me that got woken up in my last relationship. My now ex-partner is a wonderfully creative, generous, and hilariously funny person; one who is above all, kind. His kindness was trustworthy and it helped to form a safe container in which I could be vulnerable.
In my choice to be vulnerable, I evolved and more fully experienced my own essential lovability.
As this relationship unravels, I am seeing many things. It is clear that letting go is a gesture of setting one another free. Letting go clearly demonstrates a commitment to one another’s happiness and opens the doorway for each person to find a mate who wants what we want for the long haul.
Letting go of someone you love is an act of generosity.
Coming together and letting go are integral to the human journey. By engaging in love, we become vulnerable to being left due to death, divorce, or simply because a relationship runs its course.
The pain of loss is inevitable and the experience of meeting in love is absolutely worth it.
We incarnate to learn about love. Love is risky.
Separation and loss may hurt, and we don’t need to suffer. We are asked to feel what may appear to be utterly unbearable. Paradoxically, when we feel it fully, we expand our capacity for loving and being loved.
I am feeling a kaleidoscope of emotions as my relationship fades into the distance, the way the vision of a gull flying off into the horizon becomes more and more faint and eventually disappears.
The gift is that I am not suffering because through grace, and years of meditative practice, I’m able to accept what is, even as warm tears stream down my cheeks and my chest heaves with my sobs.
It’s simple, though not easy. My practice is to welcome what arises, metabolize the feelings, and accept things as they are. Doing this gives rise to relaxation and a sense of freedom.
This is an invitation to live deeply, play full-out, and love with wild abandon, knowing fully well that in the process we will apprentice ourselves to heartbreak.
We welcome heartbreak as we courageously say ‘yes’ to loving even though we know we will be asked to let go when the time comes. And eventually, it will come.