Even Trees Let Go
“The trees are about to show us how lovely it is to let the dead things go.”
It’s autumn: crisp mornings turn into breezy afternoons, and the leaves are changing and falling in Mother Nature’s yearly reminder that our grip can be too tight. We notice the beauty of the trees, and forget that the next step is those trees letting go.
We often view letting go through the lens of loss. You know that thing you’re carrying? The hurt, the difficult day, the angry conversation? The resentment, the shame, the guilt? The narrative you’ve written for yourself, the story, the relationship you’ve been dragging around for decades, years, months, weeks. That thing is heavy and suffocating, and threatens to bury you.
You might believe you deserve this burden. That carrying it keeps you safe, or sufficiently punished, or allows you to punish someone else. Maybe you’re scared of what might enter your life if you let this thing go. You’ve been carrying this thing for so long, you are terrified to give it up, even as it gets heavier and heavier.
But this thing is diminishing your shine, keeping you small, hushing your voice, and keeping you separate. This is the price you pay for holding on, and it allows no room for fresh growth, expansion, or change. This thing anchors you right here, right where you currently are, and mires you in its pain, falsehoods, and confusion.
You know exactly what this thing is that I speak of. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to let it go.
What are you releasing this season? I’d love to know about it. suzanne@suzannegarrison.com
Illustration by Jon Ehinger