Journal Prose Chronicles: Specific Questions...Muted Answers
Can't BS yourself
What does it feel like to let go of everything?
Are you able to do that?
Even for a few minutes? Seconds?
What happens when you do? Are there crashes? Explosions? Does life as you know it end or begin?
Do you breathe different? Think different? Want to do the same things, the same way? Will you care what people think? Will it be freeing? Is this a level of freedom you can handle? Create a totally different life in? Disappear from plain sight in?
Did you feel a level of responsibility there?
Do you feel an accountability level here?
How do you feel about that?
How much were you holding on to? Were you consciously aware of it all? Do you know why you were holding it? Did it serve you well? Do you want to pick any/all of it back up again? Why/Why not?
What are the lessons/guidance notes for you here?
Can you give/receive love by letting go?
Will you offend people by letting go?
Is it still a necessary and beneficial practice to let go? Can you answer that a little louder, please?
How relaxed do you feel?
How has this helped? Have there been negative/positive effects? Well...what?
Do you still need to scream/rage/cry/meltdown? Are you a more concentrated 'you' now that you've let go?
Well, what are you gonna do with all that mojo?
Personal Note:- Entries from my journal are only shared with my closest of friends, so beginning this series was not a decision taken lightly. Concentrations of my anguish, toil, love, ecstasy, and more exist between these pages.
Why share them now, you ask?
It is because as Etienne de Grellet stated in one of my favorite quotes:
“I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”
***
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making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar7 days ago in Feast
Comments (2)
Letting go sounds harder than holding on.
I struggle a lot with letting go. Imagine the thing that I'm holding on to is the blade of a knife. It's cutting into my palm and I'm bleeding, but that would only make me hold on to it tighter instead of letting go. So yea, that's how bad my struggle is 😅😅😅