Holding On and Letting Go

Monday, November 28, 2022
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Setting out on our Advent journey can bring with it a handful of questions: How do we know what is needed? What will we decide to take? At the beginning it can be hard to know what will be next. What will be important for the middle parts? What will we need to make it through? What is not enough or too much? And truth be told, it’s so easy for me to get stuck there. To get stuck in coming up with so many questions - even though I have come to know that none of these questions can yet be answered.  
 
Past journeys have taught me to recognize these wonderings, and to make some room for doubts and dreads. My heart is seeking out this journey, leaning in to these coming days. It’s been a full year. Lots of holding on’s and letting go’s. I had a seminary professor who said that “prayer is learning to not be wedded to the outcome.” Perhaps that’s what this journey may be about. Maybe it’s re-membering, re-embodying past lessons and gifts. Maybe this journey is as easy and as hard as stepping off of life’s merry-go-round and taking a breath. Maybe it’s all smacking-brand-new. Truth be told, I have no idea. We are just beginning. We are stepping out. There are bends and hills along the road we can’t even see yet.
 
Holding on and letting go. For this coming journey, from November into December, from this moment to the following one, it matters that we are mindful. It matters that we are paying attention. And it matters that we do our best to keep our spirits open all along the way. My great-uncle, Claude (on my mom’s side of the family) used to say four helpful words: “Withholding judgement, pending investigation.” I can imagine him nodding at all of these questions and responding with, “You know, Les, these questions may just be welcoming you on this journey. They just may be important. Make sure you make room for them when you are packing to go.”
 
When I think about holding on, I can’t help but thinking about a recent trip from PB to Atlanta. Lori and I were gone for 10 days. We had two bags checked and both of us with two bags carried on. I can’t speak for Lori, but I overpacked. Not knowing the weather there were t-shirts AND sweaters; there were two hooded-sweatshirts AND a raincoat. For this Advent journey I’m imagining packing and wanting to take TWO bibles (my family bible and my ordination one), wanting to take colored pencils AND crayons for drawing. See? There is an over-thinking / somehow feeling almost desperate practice that can be the practice of holding on. Uncle Claud would be nodding now, and I can almost glimpse the way his eyes would twinkle when he smiled at me…
 
Letting go is an intention of releasing, of putting down what no longer needs to be carried. Letting go can sometimes feel like giving up to me. The judging places in me where I wasn’t able to finish or follow through with something or someone. Perhaps it’s lessons I’m seeking. Perhaps the accepting of grace. Perhaps what I will be seeking is to better understand what has been too-heavy, too-entangled for me. Perhaps what I’m seeking is to better understand what to just release, to put down and let go. Perhaps…   
 
The spiritual practice of holding on and letting go is as close as our next breath. We breathe in and we breathe out. Each minute, each hour of our days. All our lives. We breathe when we are mindful, or when we are sound asleep. There are times when we are trying to hold our breath, and times when we are trying to catch it. Our breathing is right there, companioning us. Our inhaling and exhaling is our ready and able teacher, confidant, guide. Our last breath, this one right now and the next one yet to be taken. Ever present.  Our breath is our crossing over and crossing back. It is our dawn and our dusk.
 
Hold on for this time, for today and the ones to come. Hold on to what is bringing you life. May it gracefully companion these beginning steps. Let go of what feels too much to bear, too much to carry for this autumn into winter days. This practice has gotten you to this place, so as you can, offer a word or two of thanks and let go.   

(thanks to Claudia Brogan for today's picture)

Prayer:
Loving God, you know us so well. You know our best and hardest parts. You know when we worry too much, when we fret the small stuff, when we forget to look around us and see beauty. You love us when we stumble and bumble and fall. And still, and yet, and always you love us. And you keep doing it. Time after time. How amazing is your grace, especially in this precious moment, we are grateful. Amen. 

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