Now is a time for letting go; letting go of old stories we hold about ourselves that no longer serve us; letting go of all those internal narratives that limit our potential. Take a look outside your window – Nature is letting go all around us – the golden autumnal leaves are swirling off the trees and lie in drifts on the woodland floor; flowers have set seed and withered, their physical forms disintegrating into dust that eventually combines with the leaves and creatures who have themselves fulfilled their lifecycles. All is in a state of transformation – from life to death and then to rebirth.
Humans aren’t as good at letting go as our other-than-human kith and kin. Unlike the trees we hold onto our leaves, the stories with which we clothe ourselves – we hold on for dear life and so these stories become who we think we are, even if we don’t want to be like that anymore. Can we learn from the trees? Can we just relinquish what is spent, like shedding an old coat that no longer fits? We can, but we find it hard.
Perhaps we find it hard because we see ‘letting go’ as some kind of failure, of giving up, or even as a death, of sorts – especially if what we want to let go of is a relationship that no longer feels healthy, or a job we dislike. Letting go creates emotions that can stir us up, but this isn’t really surprising, because emotions are 'energy in motion' and letting go is an active process, not a passive one. It creates a momentum all of its own that can be challenging, but is ultimately regenerative. We have to let go to let in.
Letting go is an active process, not a passive one
Letting go can also sometimes feel quite destructive, because it involves change and change often means the end of something, the death of something. But there’s an old adage that is so true here: ‘Through destruction comes creation’. We all experience many mini-deaths throughout our lives: the end of a friendship, the passing of a loved one, the completion of a profession or project, indeed the culmination of any process always involves a degree of loss and often grief – it is part of life.
But as the trees shed their leaves, there is promise of rebirth even as they fall. The moment the leaves touch the Earth, they begin to degrade and new life is already taking hold. The composting process begins immediately – it is a magical form of transformation. And similarly, as we relinquish and let go, an alchemical process takes place within us, that creates the conditions for something new and vibrant to emerge from the ashes of the old. It is a phoenix-like resurrection, just as new shoots appear in the Spring.
Now is the time of transformation; it is something that cannot be rushed, because it has its own divine timing and often a period of rest and quiet is necessary, akin to hibernation or gestation, where embryonic processes take place within. But as with all good compost, what regenerates is so fertile, so potent that it cannot but facilitate creativity. And so, the Wheel of the Year turns. All is well and all things shall be well.
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