In the spirit of Autumn.
Alternate title: Let shit go.
Last night, the Solavis Mindfulness Meditation group met and I had prepared the evening’s theme to honor of the stunning and majestic weekend of peak fall foliage we had just enjoyed in the Hudson Valley.
Peak. Stunning.
When I was putting together the guided meditation, my counselor brain was all focused on how this would connect with the release of emotional content among the group members. Letting go of anxiety. Of guilt. Of fear. Of negative self-talk.
After the guided portion of the evening, we always have a group share. Interestingly, the conversations immediately focused on letting go of…stuff. Physical stuff. Clutter stuff. What’s behind closet door #2 stuff.
As we talked, though, and the conversation slowly drifted a little deeper, a shared underlying theme began to emerge — shedding away. Stripping down.
I listened to the group discussion and my own thoughts drifted to a time several years ago when I first beginning the process of getting divorced. I found a tiny little efficiency apartment nearby the home I lived in with my family. When I packed for that day that I would move out, I was very intentional. My clothes. All of my books. Some bed and bathroom linens. A box of kitchen supplies so that I could cook myself dinner.
It was sparse.
It was also one of the single most curative spaces I had ever inhabited. Stripped down.
At that time, I needed to relinquish everything in honor of my own healing. One of the things that drove me from that marriage was the recognition that I had not completely allowed for the full development of my own identity before attaching it permanently to the identity of another person. I needed to figure who and what I was, and to some extent that meant rejecting all of the physical things that I had surrounded myself with.
Because we do that - don’t we? We define ourselves by what we own. We distract ourselves with stuff. We place all of our time, money, energy, and identity into the value of what we can acquire. The American Dream.
Which isn’t to imply that everyone should run out and find a tiny efficiency apartment and live in spartan fashion. But maybe we can use the call of this season to gently focus on letting go of the things that clutter our vision inward, or distract from our connecting with self and others.
It’s also worth adding here that there is a known link between clutter and anxiety. When I work with individuals on self-care this is one of the things we discuss - the importance of a space that feels good to be in.
During that time, in my small little apartment, surrounded by nothing but myself, I finally found home. It was me; it had always been me, but I was unable to see it until I let go of everything except the most core aspects of my life.
When I look back, that time in my life was reflected in both the expectations I held for last night and the discussion that emerged. In letting go of objects and the perceptions of safety and comfort, I was able to also let go of the emotional pain that had become such a heavy burden.
This past weekend, this part of New York was exuberantly alive in full dazzle but now we will begin the process of turning in for winter. One of the prompts from last night’s meditation was to visualize what lies on the other side of this period of hibernation. What will your life look like after you have let go - of whatever burden, physical or emotional, that you carry?
What does your freedom look like?
