The
Power of Letting Go
Blue Douglas
in issue eight
Scintillations
Surf’s Up
A Right to the Left
Hooray Soleil
The Power of Letting Go
Fuzzy Alien Antennae
Storms and Silence
Incredible Shrinking Woman
Apologizing to Mandy
Sex in the Outback
Dream Interpretation
Moody Girl
Younger Self
Single (again)
photography
Meditation
Single Sunflower
Porch
Park Feet
Smith Doors
Subway Guy
poetry
Courage
Fear
Change
Revelations
My Illusion
artwork
Dancing Star Girl
Noire
Nude on the Side
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Play With
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Years ago I
read a story about a Buddhist nun living in medieval Japan,
who had undertaken a journey to another province carrying only
a water gourd and a paper fan. While passing through a
particularly dangerous forest she was suddenly confronted by
an armed bandit intent upon harming her. He was well muscled
and considerably bigger then she was, but before he had a
chance to state his intentions she rushed at him with a blood
curdling scream, brandishing her paper fan above her head. Her
would-be assailant was so shocked by her onslaught that he
fell backwards and became tangled in his armament. Unable to
recover his composure before she would be upon him, he fled
into the woods and was still running as the nun continued on
her way.
I remember the
impact the nun’s story had on me. I sat as if thunderstruck
with the book in my lap and stared out my window. What was the
source of the nun’s power? The author of the book maintained
that it sprang from her letting go of life. In her willingness
to die she had acted spontaneously in spite of her fear. In so
doing she had saved her life, otherwise that road in the wilds
of Japan would have swallowed her bones. Her story mirrored an
incident in my own life.
I had attended
college in a small midwestern town. One bitterly cold morning
I walked through the snow to a friend’s house. He was not at
home so I paused on the porch to have a cigarette. Suddenly, I
saw my friend several blocks up the street at the top of the
hill. He was standing with his back to me, his legs braced
apart and his hands drawn up to his chest. He faced another
young man that I didn’t recognize. They both looked tense
and I was sure a fight was about to break out. A wave of gray
fear washed over me. I had grown up thinking of myself as a
coward. I had only been in one fight in my life and that had
consisted of two gangly pre-adolescents flailing
half-heartedly at one another until we were both exhausted and
gave up. I’d felt humiliated at not having won, at having
performed poorly. After that I’d gone out of my way to avoid
fighting, even to the point of submitting to ridicule if
necessary. Now I was faced with a choice, embrace my belief in
my cowardice and stand by as my friend was hurt or face my
fear and go to help him. I leaped off the porch and ran up the
hill. All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears as I
approached. I cut through an alley so I could come up on my
friend’s assailant from behind. As I burst through the
nearby fur trees into the clearing snow flew everywhere. My
friend broke into a startled grin and introduced me to the
other young man. I had been mistaken. There was no fight.
However, I would never again think of myself as a coward. On
that cold winter morning I had forever let go of that
self-image.
I grew up believing that power meant money, influence and control and that acquiring these things would make me powerful. I was taught that clothes make the man and diamonds are forever. I believed that the one who dies with the most toys wins. However, the nun’s story had nothing to do with money or acquisition. Her power was not bought but came form within.
If we look up
power in the dictionary we see that there are a number of
other definitions beside those associated with wealth,
influence and control. One of them is, “the force that
produces energy or growth.” Consider the description of
power as an electrical or energetic force that drives
something, an engine, a dynamo or our lives. In all types of
engines the fuel is taken in and expelled, in short, it is
circulated. An electric motor without a ground will not
function properly. Plug the exhaust of your car and the engine
will die. Cover your geranium with a plastic bag and no mater
how much you feed and water it the results will be the same.
It’s going to suffocate. We are not different. We were meant
to breathe in and breathe out.
Our concepts
of who we are and what our lives should be often robs us of
the personal power that is our birthright. Our belief in what
is expected of us sometimes stops the natural growth that we
require to thrive and develop our lives and only letting go of
those concepts can restore our power. Often we must let go of
something before we can gain something new in our life.
Countless
times in my life I have been presented with situations that no
amount of money or influence could change and no control seem
possible. One such situation happened a few years ago when my
mother had a stroke. Her illness affected me as well. I could
not buy her health or change what had happened. I was forced
to let go of the idea that things would ever be exactly as
they had been before. I had to try to let go of my belief that
I was truly independent once and for all. I had to let go of
how things had been and embrace how they are. All that was
left was for me to accept the situation as it was and throw
myself whole-heartedly into doing the best I could. By letting
go of the past I have grown. I’ve grown more compassionate
and patient and have learned how precious the things in life
that money can’t buy truly are.
As a result, here I am, a stranger separated from the nun by half a world and hundreds of years being taught a lesson by her, a lesson in what constitutes real power in my life, the personal power that comes from learning to let go.
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