She let go …

Ich höre in die­sem Gedicht das Thema des Anhaftens in uns, wie wir uns in immer ande­ren Schleifen inner­lich davor weh­ren, los­zu­las­sen.  Am Ende ist das Loslassen wie ein Blatt im Herbst, das reif ist zu fal­len, etwas was fast wie von selbst geschieht.  Die Praxis des Loslassens bie­tet für mich ein Tor zu tie­fer Spiritualität.

Die Dichterin des Textes heisst Safire Rose.  Sie setzt sich für die Rechte von Diskriminierten ein, bie­tet Trainings an, beglei­tet Menschen beim Sterben und vie­les mehr.  Auf ihrer Webseite erfahrt ihr mehr über ihre Arbeit und ihre Angebote.

She let go.

Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of fear. She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the con­fluence of opi­ni­ons swarm­ing around her head.
She let go of the com­mit­tee of inde­cis­i­on within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely,
wit­hout hesi­ta­ti­on or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyo­ne for advice. She didn’t read a
book on how to let go… She didn’t search the scriptures.

She just let go.
She let go of all of the memo­ries that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxie­ty that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the plan­ning and all of the cal­cu­la­ti­ons about how to do it just right.

She didn’t pro­mi­se to let go.
She didn’t jour­nal about it.
She didn’t wri­te the pro­jec­ted date in her day-timer.
She made no public announce­ment and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the wea­ther report or read her dai­ly horoscope.

She just let go.
She didn’t ana­ly­se whe­ther she should let go.
She didn’t call her fri­ends to dis­cuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the pray­er line.
She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened.
There was no applau­se or congratulations.
No one than­ked her or prai­sed her.
No one noti­ced a thing.

Like a leaf fal­ling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of let­ting go, she let it all be.
A small smi­le came over her face.
A light bree­ze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon sho­ne forevermore.

— Reverend Safire Rose