“The truth is unless you let go, forgive yourself, forgive the situation, and realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.” – Steve Marboli, Reflections On The Human Experience.

That is true.

The Dalai lama has often said a key to spirituality and peace of mind is the ability to let go. In the end, he says, that’s all that matters.

I’m not good at letting go.

I sometimes have a hair-trigger temper; I remember grudges, hurts, wounds, and insults from long ago. I expect a lot from myself and others, and I am often disappointed on both counts.

I need to let go of things in my life much more than in other people’s lives.

I understand the importance of letting go; hanging on often leads to hatred, anger, and grievance. Yet I find myself deeply conflicted sometimes (many times 🙂 ). I feel very strongly about being honest, or at least trying to be honest, which often disagrees with letting go and moving ahead.

I’m getting a lesson in that conflict right now. I can let go. But not if I have to lie.

When I feel attacked, I fight back before I think. I’m working on that. That is changing. I understand that I should never write in anger. Wait a day or let go.

But an experience with a friend has reminded me just how difficult this is.

Five or six years ago, some people from a prominent American City came to our open houses and became valued friends. They bought a house a few miles away and said they wanted to move up here, partially because of us and the beauty of the countryside.

We were happy to have them here. And we quickly became friends.

We saw one another often, gave them advice on country life, shared several interests, loved animals, etc., and enjoyed their love affair with our world.

We met, dined, followed each other’s lives, and walked in the woods.

That was several years ago. Suddenly, we heard nothing from them – no calls, messages, or visits. I e-mailed a few times and called once or twice but got no response. We imagined we had offended them in some way. I admit, I was hurt, not angry.

I felt blown off, discarded. But getting angry with people doesn’t fix or change or resolve anything. I am only getting mad at myself.

 

 

Recently, we heard they had moved here from their city and were living close to us. This week, I got a message from one of them – a professional e-card-  inviting Maria to a business event they were hosting.

I was shocked and hurt some more, I guess.

I thought, okay, this is something I should just let go of. I don’t need to go to the event, and I don’t need to make a drama out of it. But I felt I had to be honest.

I e-mailed them and said I hadn’t heard from them in several years and was surprised by invitation. Had I offended them? If there were a problem, I said, I would be happy to talk about it.

I got a message back saying, “no problem here. Perhaps there was a miscommunication. Let’s talk.”

That angered me off often even further. How dumb did they think I was? How oblivious? Something had happened; even if it was a miscommunication, shouldn’t we talk about that and put it behind us? How could close friends who suddenly avoided me for three years blow me off that way?

They didn’t or don’t need to be my friends; that isn’t a lifetime appointment. They are free to befriend whomever they choose.

But our friendship meant something to me, and losing it in that abrupt and permanent way didn’t seem right, not without some discussion or at least acknowledgment. They were friends.

That means something to me.

Minor fame can confuse. So can the power of my blog. Many people contact me when they want to be mentioned on my blog, and I never hear from them again. That doesn’t bother me. It comes with the territory. But there is often that voice in the head wondering.

These are good people; I appreciate them and enjoy knowing them. I hope their lives are fruitful and happy; I do.

Maria got the same invitation and just said she couldn’t make it. But, she thought, “Jon will have something more to say; he won’t be able to pretend.”

She was right, of course. I can’t be anyone else; I can only be me.

I said I wasn’t interested in talking if she said there was no problem. That seemed like too much hypocrisy for me. I couldn’t take the Dalai Lama or Seve Maraboli’s advice.

I could forgive or forget the situation, understand that the relationship was over, and move forward, as Marid did. But I have to be honest about it, and I can’t lie and accept the idea that there is no problem. To me, that is pure hypocrisy. I wish them no ill will, and will be happy to say hi if I run into them.

Even Christ had to learn to let go: “From that moment many of His disciples turned back and no longer accompanied him.” – John 6:66. I am no Jesus, but it helped to read that.

Working on my spiritual life has changed my life. I never quite get where I want to be, but I never stop working on it.

In my spiritual readings, I’ve studied ideas from the wise ones about letting go.

Create a positive mantra to push back on hurt and resentment; focus on my work, practice mindfulness, be gentle with myself and the people and things I’m letting go of, and perhaps most importantly, accept the reality that the person who hurt or angered me may never wish to talk about it, explain, or apologize.

In other words, let them go.

And also let time do some work. I will not be thinking about this in a few weeks or even days. I understand on some level that this conversation, this truthful closure that I want, will never happen. I want something almost nobody else wants.

I’ll have moved into a dozen other jobs, hurts, joys, and tasks, as I like to tell myself when I’m in danger of focusing on something that isn’t healthy; I remember that in a few days, this will be hundred blog posts ago.

Thinking in the present is the best way for me to move forward. The more we can bring out focus to the present moment, says Lisa Olivera, a well-known licensed family therapist, the less struggle we’ll have with the past or the future.

The present is busy and full in my life, and I have lots to think about and do. I accept that people I thought were good friends had other needs and choices, and it is their right to make them. They don’t owe me a thing. But I can’t be complicit in a lie, either. It’s my problem.

We should live daily like people who have just been rescued from dying on the moon, says the Buddhist scholar Thich Nhat Hanh. “We are on the earth now,” he writes, ” and need to enjoy walking on this precious, beautiful planet.”

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In many ways, I think learning to let go is one of the essential ideas of the spiritual world. It’s an integral part of my learning experience, which, I hope, continues until death.

I very much like moving to the present when something disturbs me.

This leaves me more space and freedom to choose how I want to respond to my life in a better way.

Ultimately, I have to be true to myself, for better or worse.

My life speaks for me. I want to walk on this precious, beautiful planet.