[Today I'm writing 'long-hand', by hand in my journal instead of typing out my post. I'm also in a public place, and I wonder how these two factors will affect my writing.]
Letting go - ouch! This seems like it must be inevitably painful - to write about as well as to do. Perhaps that's why I chose to go to a food court to write today. It would help to curb the tears that might otherwise flow. I wonder, am I sabotaging myself? Do I need to cry? I haven't cried in so long.
Letting go - wow. If I'd known there was going to be a test at the end of the year, I would have tried harder. I'm looping back on myself already. "Trying" was my word for Day 1. In many ways, today's piece is a variation on that theme. I tried to let go of many things this year, but whether I succeeded is another matter.
* "Negative Nancy" - the voice in my head that tells me I'm bad, I'm wrong, I'm not good enough. I did an exercise earlier this year where I isolated this part of my psyche and named it. Had a conversation with it (more like a fight, truth be told). This seems to have helped my progress quite a bit.
Naming something, acknowledging it, is the first step towards getting rid of it. Then you can confront it: "Well, no, actually ... "
I'm letting go of low self-esteem. I know this is a process that will take years, perhaps the rest of my life, but I took a step this year.
* People. I stopped wondering, "why doesn't she call me?" "Did I do or say something wrong?" "Why did he/she bother to friend me on Facebook, and then never answer my emails?" Am I not good enough? Interesting enough? It occurred to me that other people are probably just as slack, busy or unsure of themselves as I am. And that's OK. Not everyone will like me, and that's fine.
I went through my mobile phone address book last month and deleted everyone that I hadn't heard from in over three years. I'd been putting off that task for that long. My address book was half-empty afterwards. I didn't have any regrets at all. In fact, I had to think hard to remember who some of them even were.
* Futility. In the last few years I stared to realise that I'll never be the kind of person I desperately wanted to be when I was younger. I let go of the notion that I would ever be that cool person who chatted easily with famous people and was invited to gallery openings. I'll never feel like I fit in at the bars down Brunswick Street or the cool kids' craft nights. I'll never be a University academic or an archaeologist or an historian or a National Park ranger like I wanted to be when I was a kid. Being an adult is all about giving up on your dreams. The braver of us create new dreams which are even better - because they're our dreams, and that's because we know who we are.
Letting go - clunk! Ouch, that hurt. But you have to put the baggage down before you can move forwards. When I first read today's prompt, two words came to mind: 'safe' and 'easy'. Being small and unobtrusive is easy. Staying in my cocoon is safe. Stepping out to take what I want - what I need, even - is hard and scary. The light blinds my eyes. But the pounding heart of determination is pushing me forwards.