letting it go

I am letting and I have let it go. Everything, every cross word, every stressful moment, every nagging thought. I have returned to peace, and all I really had to do was ask myself to do it. Like a page flipped in my mind, like a wave of my hand, I've brushed it all aside, away, and out the door. It's not simply hidden under a rug or around a corner either. It's gone.

I can pinpoint the moment. Riding in the car on the way to dinner with my in-laws Saturday night, an email from work was really grating on me. Even thoughts not about that email were tinted by it, shaded with the negative light it had cast on my mind. "Why?" I thought. Why do I do this to myself? There was nothing I could do about it. Alone in the wild countryside of Illinois, staring into the dark trees and harvested fields, out of cell range, what could I do? Even if I had been in my office staring at these white walls and my computer screen, there would have been little I myself could do other than fret. And fretting solves absolutely nothing. So I stopped. I simply stopped. And somehow that realization-- that I am powerless to affect the ultimate course of these events, that no amount of worrying or stressing will solve a problem I can't solve, that most of the things I worry about never come to fruition anyway-- that thought released me.

I feel lighter. I feel lighter and more determined, determined to find a way past these problems toward solutions. I feel like the road blocks have come down and all that's in front of me is wide-open blacktop. I'm exercising more, complaining about it less. Eating healthier, drinking water. Concentrating at work. Putting away the phone at night, my mind on my husband and my family. Looking forward to time with friends and to the holidays. Being happier. I'm grateful again.