Letting Go.
What do those words, bring to your mind when you read them?
A mother letting her child grow up and experience life on their own, trusting that the lessons she taught it will keep it safe and help it continue to grow and become successful.
A lover, who releases all their inhibitions, seeking to experience a myriad of sensations, feelings, and climatic release.
A widow finally stepping away from old memories, placing the photos of the past in a box, stored deep away in forgotten recesses, in order to focus on the present, and the future.
The submissive that opens their body and mind to their Dominant, trusting that the Dom will give them the feelings, emotions, and experiences they need to continue to feel submissive.
Someone who has fought against something passionately, and as the fight progressed, had the realization that the fight can’t be won by them.
Or is the thought that comes to your mind, something more personal, something more intimate, something where you felt loss, hurt, pain, and even oddly mixed within those feelings, joy?
Letting Go.
Two words with a simple meaning; but have so many possible ways to experience that meaning. At some point in our lives, we all let go. We all have that moment when we realize ‘it’s that time’. There is no set time frame, no set magical word or event, there is no one that will appear at our door and tell us it’s over (and even if someone did, wouldn’t that just make you hang on longer?), your body, and your mind will just know instinctively.
Until that moment, until the letting go occurs, the trepidation, the hurt, the coiled excitement, the feeling that is bundled inside, the feeling that needs to be let go, builds. It grows, it consumes, it influences your thoughts, your actions, it even leads to actions or thoughts that makes letting go harder.
I’ve recently had multiple matters which I needed to let go. I wish I could say I did, and that the release was refreshing. I wish I could say that, but I can’t. I’ve discovered that, even when my body says to let go, even when my mind is screaming it, even when I not only let go, but push myself away with the full force my body and mind can muster. There still exists, somewhere in a box, stored in a closet, in the back, dark reaches of my mind, there still exists the memories, the feelings, the fight. There is still, in that box a reminder, of when I was holding on.
That makes me question then, how many people, when they let go, really let go? In the examples I opened this thought with; how many mothers still stare at the phone or the room of the child rested in, waiting for a call or visit? How many lovers, go through the emotions, of letting go, but really hold back afraid of what they may discover? How many widows place that box in the closet, but keep a locket with the photo around their neck? How many a submissive knelt before their Dom and questioned in their thought, “Do we really match?”; and how many fights, where even after the person has walked away from the conflict, did they continue to run scenarios in their head on how to return and defeat their opponent?
Do we really, ever let go?
