Letting Go

He held out his fist, palm up. Slowly, like the petals of a rosebud opening to full bloom, he extended each finger until his hand lay open before us.

"Here's how I hold onto things... not at all."

Hanniff smiled broadly as he shared his attitude toward change. Toward his midlife transition from banking to teaching, featured in my previous post, "Prepare Like It's Inevitable."

The day after this exchange I took a long walk in our park. The image of Hanniff's upturned, open hand walked with me. His words, his voice, broke through the rush of water racing over rocks in the creek to my right and the lively birds socializing in the trees all around me. I go where I'm led. I write what comes through. "What better symbol for acceptance than an open hand? No resistance. No fear. Change welcome."

With that, my mind turned to the Tibetan Buddhist practice of mandala sand art. So much time and care to create stunning works of art that are, by design, as impermanent as our mortal lives. Inspired, I found these images at Dartmouth's Hopkins Center for the Arts "LIVE at the HOP" Gallery.

Dartmouth College Hopkins Center for the Arts
The Mystical Arts of Tibet: July 26-29, 2007
Photos by Kawakahi Amina

Their beauty touches us. The care that went into them speaks to us. The art fills us. But the works don't have to remain to do so. Truly, it is their fleeting existence that heightens their impact on our soul.

And so it is with each and every one of us. We are all here, in the scheme of things, for a very brief visit. Fear of letting go of the familiar, no matter how unfulfilling, is fear of living. Your life is a work of art. Never stop creating and recreating it. You came into this world a master of change. Growing up is an awesome experience. Full of wonder and change and yes, sometimes, fear. Good for you it isn't a choice. And neither is growing older.

Anchors are of our own making. Staying tethered, of our own choosing. Start today to practice this simple act of your imagination and power. Hold tight to the thick rope anchoring you to your present life circumstance. Squeeze it with a white-knuckle grip. Then slowly, very slowly, begin to release your hold. Relax and feel the coarse hemp begin to slip through your hand. Feel it running through your fingers more lightly and quickly as you loosen your grip.

Now drop the line and turn your hand, palm up, empty. How does it feel to free yourself? What relief are you experiencing? What stress is evaporating? Sense the movement. Your movement. One last look back now. Your past isn't fading into the background. You are emerging into the foreground of the masterpiece that is you. Where are you going? What are you doing? Who are you being? Do you know? Or are you OK for the moment, just breathing. Living in relief.

Grab a brush and some paint. A blank canvas is an opportunity, like your stark-naked birth. Splash that liquid life with abandon. Let it take form like billowing clouds, sculpted by the wind's breath into recognizable shapes. Beautiful. Majestic. Purposeful forms. Playing their roles. Being themselves. Just like you.

Prepare Like It's Inevitable

Years ago we refinanced our home mortgage to take advantage of low rates. The gentleman who served us was super friendly and helpful.

I saw Hanniff early this morning in a Lowe's parking lot. It was the first time since I signed those mortgage papers. He was beaming as always, eager to engage. Dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, as was I, there was no talk of interest rates or home equity loans. No, Hanniff left banking to pursue his dream. He teaches sixth grade now, Math, Science and Social Studies, in a local school. And he loves it. He is living his dream. He is in love with his life.

As we were catching up, it slowly came back to me. Conversations during our dealings at the bank about his passion for kids and teaching. Courses he was taking on his own, at his expense, to prepare himself. Enthusiasm at the prospect of doing his student teaching. He filled in the gaps from the last time we spoke. Mortgage lending was great, helping people realize their dream of homeownership, but his calling was elsewhere. And he was intent on answering that call to truly be himself.

His coworkers couldn't understand. "Why would you do this?" "All that coursework!" "You won't get a job teaching when you finish." "They don't pay you to student teach!" On and on. But Hanniff was undeterred. He continued to prepare as if it were inevitable. And so it was.

Before we left that lot and parted ways, three people greeted Hanniff. People obviously touched by the positive influence he has had on their children and families through his teaching. One was a father and son, a student who will be entering 8th grade in the fall. A full year beyond Hanniff's tutelage, this young man beamed when he saw his former teacher. And this teacher, a full year later, remembered, still, significant details of this lad's life. Details retained by a spirit of caring and care for a life's work that blossomed at midlife. Details held now in a Be Yourself story that wouldn't be denied.

 

Enough

I love taking walks through our park. Today, as I passed by the tennis courts, a woman was walking to her car, tennis bag in hand and a dog in tow, off his leash. She arrived at her car long before her golden retriever. He was old and arthritic with an awkward gait. She called to him kindly and he walked to her slowly, at a speed he could manage. He couldn't go any faster, and she didn't expect him to. She didn't complain, and neither did he. He was giving her all he could, and she didn't expect any more than he could give.