Letting Go

I was reading this morning in a book called Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With The Heart of a Buddha by Tara Brach, PH.D, and she said that if we pause when things are not going well and just be with what is going on inside, we can continue, perhaps in a different frame of mind. Calmer for sure, but also without running the show. Letting things unfold.

I am pausing right now, being with the pain I've developed in my wrist from overuse and also setting aside my fear of moving the rest of my belongings from the ex-house to storage here in town. What this means is my life there really is over. I'm so attached. That isn't the Buddhist way. Non-attachment is what one strives for. I'm new at this so have not much insight to offer about it. I do know that in writing if I don't try and don't think too hard, my writing improves by leaps. And with the garden, if I don't try, the weeds take over.

So how do we let go. Just move on. My ex once said he could move on at the drop of a hat. It was in a conversation after we'd moved to the coast from Spokane. I didn't know this was his modis operandi, I thought it was just a conversation—but I've learned that he has a way of turning his back on things, just going on without the other, even while in relationship. This isn't what I'm talking about, not this type of letting go. Letting go means being completely present with what is before one's eyes, with one's experience, both physical and emotional. It means to be like the garden.

Speaking of the garden, I'm officially announcing it is fall in the PNW and it is time for fall things to happen. Debbie of Rainyside Gardener said to cover my plot with leaves and then manure and next year my soil will be much improved. So I guess I'll have to find some leaves and manure and it would help if we were to have an Indian summer. I'm wondering if that name is politically correct, that perhaps we should be saying Native American Summer, which is when leaves turn orange and the sun is hot. It is delicious to be sure. And smells good with all the rotting fruit Is this something that happens everywhere? We had Indian Summer's in Spokane. But sometimes the leaves turn a little yellow and brown and the rains start and they fall and nothing, no more flash in the pan. Just let go. Watch it all unfold.

Okay, the alarm just went off and the grandbaby will be here shortly. So happy gardening. And happy life.

Flower