Here I am in Peru many moons ago, after a plant medicine ceremony focusing on "letting go". 

A couple of weeks ago I attended a 5Rhythms dance workshop here in Nelson and had a profound experience of surrender. The theme of the weekend was indeed surrender, and we did a stream of consciousness-style writing practice about letting go. And so, I wanted to share this with you in hopes that some of you can recognize a little bit of yourselves in this. After all, as Yogi Bhajan said, "Recognize that you are the other person." 

She let go. Finally. Fucking finally! She’d been trying to let go for decades. Traipsing through jungles in far away lands sitting with shamans, who would shake rattle and roll in efforts of chasing her demons away. She’d met wheelers and dealers in rainforests who tried to teach her how to let go. They’d blow tobacco into her sensitive eyes and “poof!” she could let go! But she didn’t.

She sat in solitude for hours on end listening to her breath—breathing out—breathing in, in hopes of letting go. She sat with monks in robes deep in the Himalayas and wanted them to show her how to let go. “Which mantra is the best for letting go?” she’d ask. Then she’d chant, sing and sway, again with the hope of letting go. Clearly none of this had worked. She’d come home journey after journey, with temporary glimpses into this unattainable world where one can really let go. She’d unpack her bags filled with potions, powders, plants and poetic spells. All to help her in letting go. But she didn’t.

Until she did. She let go. Finally. Fucking finally! After years of seeking, searching, exploring and travelling. She stayed home. In her own backyard she cranked up the volume of the ghetto blaster on the porch and moved onto the grass. She began to move her feet slowly, tentatively—was she really ready to let go after all this time? Her body began to follow the beat. Followed the breath. Inhale—exhale—letting go bit by bit. Rhythm rhyme and melody all encouraging her to let go, “For fuck’s sakes!” they thumped in unison, snare drum, bongo and high hat, “It’s time!” 

She let go. There in her own little town in the middle of the mountains she allowed her body to listen. To listen deeply. To shake, rattle and roll. Her hips sang, “Rock n’ roll!” as her arms chimed, “Flip flop fly, don’t care if I die!” And now, she didn’t really care if she died or not. Because finally, fucking finally—she let go.

My question for you all is: "How do you let go?" I so look forward to hearing your responses as we are all on this same journey.
Enjoy and much love and light to you all,





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