Letting It Go is the First Step of Acceptance

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

— E. M. Forster

Whenever I hear Elsa, Idina Menzel, from Frozen sing the song “Let It Go,” I picture a balloon filled with helium leaving my hands and floating away. A memory takes me back to 20 years ago when my mother died and at her funeral, the grandchildren released balloons, symbolic of Mom’s spirit ascending to heaven. During the process, we released her spirit, which had experienced vast amounts of pain, to an everlasting life of peace. We let her go.

But nobody told me, whether they forgot or intentionally left out the information, that worries, problems, and pains don’t float away in a balloon. From my experience, life’s events move more like a boomerang than a balloon. Problems do not gracefully drift away, never to return. We may ignore them, bury them, hurl them into the abyss, but they yell to be acknowledged, burrow up to the surface and as with a boomerang, return with all the speed and force that initiated their departure.

If correctly thrown, a boomerang’s return will sneak up from behind and knock you to the ground. Lying awake in bed listening to the sounds of the past and watching images fly around reminds me of the scene in The Wizard of Oz when the tornado lifted the house. As Dorothy lay on her bed, memories of her life floated around her, good and bad, bringing back what she missed and torturing her with what the future may bring.

This happens to me in the middle of the night when dreams convey the past to my present. I’ve been known to scream and wake up the dog, my husband and myself when a flashback from tough times plays in my mind like an old video recording. I realized the necessity of learning how to catch the pain of past events and control them so they did not control me.

My first step is accepting that I cannot control the world around me. As long as I walk around believing I control the outcome, I remain at risk of continual disappointment. I revert back to bad practices and must be reminded of Stephen Covey’s message about the circle of influence and circle of control to remember to control what I can and let the rest go to the hands of professionals. Gain power by letting go and accepting that we only control feelings and reactions.

I make notes and place them in frequented areas to remind myself that I am only a visitor in this world and, as such, do not have the power to change destiny. One of my favorite mottos states, “It is what it is.” So simple yet so accurate. I drink daily out of my coffee cup with quotes from the novel Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand, reminding me to accept life.

• It’s so much — — just to have you here, to love you, and to be alive.
• It is not death that we wish to avoid but the life that we wish to live.
• The evil in the world is made possible by nothing but the sanction you give it.
• No one’s happiness but my own is in my power to achieve or to destroy.
• Happiness is that state of consciousness that proceeds from the achievement of one’s values.
• Love is our response to our highest values.

• Why ask useless questions? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? Who is John Galt?

Accepting the pain may have been one of my most difficult lessons during Kari’s illness. I convinced myself if I didn’t acknowledge the chaos around me, it would disappear. This thought process kept me amped up with false hopes waiting for the heartache to go away. When I said aloud, “This sucks. I hurt. We will get through it together,” the hurt faded. It didn’t go away, but it became manageable and allowed peace and calm to take its place. Acceptance also allowed me to value the support of others. I acknowledged events and moved on to decide what to do about them.

My personality type prompts me to challenge problems directly with the expectation of finding a solution. For days I looked for answers that would help Kari. I expected the medical staff to provide the medicine to heal Kari. I expected Kari’s body to conquer the monster. Until I revised my expectations, revised them to be realistic, I failed daily and became more distraught. Humans only have so much to give.

For quite a while, my coping strategies all centered around what I would stop doing but being a woman of action, I had to determine what I could accomplish. I began to create goals and a plan which empowered me to act within my ability. I thought in terms of short-term instead of long-term goals. Ideals of Kari independently walking out of the hospital and returning to teach in her kindergarten classroom changed to Kari walking out with assistance and going home to hold her children. I had to stop focusing on what I couldn’t change and act upon possible changes.

Probably because it was played on repeat, nobody escaped the words of Elsa’s song. The lyrics became a mechanism to measure my success in coping with the trauma. Interestingly, I discovered three lines that provide harmful directions.

“Don’t let them in, don’t let them see

Be the good girl you always have to be

Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know”

— Source: Buck, C., & Lee, J. (2013). Frozen. Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures.

How we deal with emotions defines our mental health. If they are ignored, they grow like a balloon inflated beyond capacity, and eventually, we blow up. Nobody is perfect, nor should we try to be. Acknowledge mistakes, and accept them because errors define our humanity. We cannot hid from our past or reality. Attempting to tolerate problems in isolation leaves us sad, alone, and isolated. Let people in and share your concerns because the pain becomes lighter when the load’s dispersed. In my life, family, friends, and sometimes strangers provided support. Once during a manicure, I shared a troubling personal experience. Quite unexpectedly, the words and tears competed for attention. Three ladies gathered around to provide support and empathy. My concerns lightened simply by talking.

Another time, as I ate on the lawn at Wendy’s, all the agony of Kari’s medical crises consumed me, and I curled in a ball and cried. When the manager walked out to check on me, I assured him that I was fine, but I realized the time had come to reach out for support. I picked up my phone and called a friend. Just hearing her compassion sobered me and provided enough reassurance to return to the hospital to offer support.

Be honest with yourself and others. Once I stopped trying to be perfect and realized I didn’t have to carry the weight of the world, life became easier. It felt empowering to be honest with myself, and it felt great to share my feeling and thoughts. However, the cliché, “The truth will set you free,” is not totally realistic. I chose confidents carefully. Some people don’t want to hear the truth, desire to live in a world that camouflages life’s discomforts, and become disgruntled with uncomfortable details.

I learned that sometimes the truth doesn’t need to be stated out loud, just acknowledged. Waking up every day is hard enough without trying to pretend. Be genuine in your actions, words, and deeds. If others can’t accept the real you, that becomes their problem and their loss. Individuals who remain, listen, and offer support during the worst of times are friends. They are real friends.

If I rewrote these three lines of the song, they would read something like this.

Just let them in and let them see

Wear your heart upon your sleeve

Show them your pain, support will come

Now, stop living numb

Feel everything intensely. Feelings can only be buried and ignored for so long before they explode. Make time to bring your feelings out to play. Hold each one in your hands and examine it. When sad, cry. When scared, seek comfort. When happy, laugh. When confused, ask questions.

Problems confuse emotions, freeze us to the bone, restrict common sense, immobilize positive actions, interrupt healthy interactions, and block positive thinking. When we release the emotional pain, we begin to thaw and warm up to the possibilities in life. Letting go is the first step to emotional stability; isolation is only a deterrent.

The movie Frozen is less than two hours, but it spans a period of the character’s life. In the end, Elsa has undergone a transformation, and her words reflect the change. Her words begin to make sense.

“Let it go

The cold never bothered me anyway

Let it go, let it go

And I’ll rise like the break of dawn

Let it go, let it go

That perfect girl is gone

Here I stand in the light of day

Let the storm rage on”

I had to learn how to let it go. Of course, this is easier said than done, but recognizing the past is uncontrollable is a first step. I clasped the memories so tightly that if they were encased in a balloon, they would pop, expelling stale emotions and deflating me at the same time. Somehow, I believed by hanging on, I would be able to change the outcome. That is an impossibility. Learn to accept.

You can read Kari’s story.

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