Let go

In Hollywood movies, heroes at the climax close their eyes or fall off a cliff to say something along the lines of “let go.” This is often the moment when the character discovers her true potential and becomes a superhero.

“Let go” is such a cliché, but this kind of character development works for me. Even when there isn’t enough explanation for why the character suddenly experiences a caterpillar-to-butterfly moment, I simply accept the transition because I understand that growth means letting go of one’s expectations, fear, and ego.

Humans suffer. Even those born with an inhumane amount of material wealth struggle for more attention, fame, and stimulation. I suffer when I can’t “let go” and embrace silence and boredom. I suffer when I can’t “let go” of all my wishes for the future. I suffer when I can’t “let go” of past mistakes.

A few months ago, I had to say goodbye to a nun I had met at a hospice facility. I had volunteered at the hospice for two years, and the nun had been the head of the facility for about three years. When she told me she was leaving, she said she had decided to enter a monastery and spend the rest of her life there. She said the monastery wouldn’t let her contact anyone outside. She was about to take the off-ramp for an endless path. Her life would be devoted to prayers for God.

I teared up and realized I’d never had this kind of experience: saying a final goodbye to a person who’s alive and well. “I’ve been such a punk, moving around the country too much,” she told me. I looked at her face and realized she was letting go of all the connections she had made with this world. Once, she told me she became a nun at a young age to “study and find the truth.” She even told us there are many things wrong about Christianity, and she had learned so much from Buddhist monks. I always liked how she seemed free from all the orthodox teachings of the religion.

I still feel a void when I think of our relationship. I won’t be able to see her forever. I won’t even know when she passes away. It’s difficult to let go of our connection, while she is praying for everyone, including me.

Letting go isn’t a passive act of giving up on the many temptations in our lives. You have to be ruthless enough to let go and focus only on what matters. It takes just a minute to close my eyes and breathe. I’d like to shrink my awareness down to the size of a small bowl. It’s okay to lose. It’s okay to fall. It’s okay to be unknown. This is the way. This is the way.