35~Letting Go

'Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.'

~Mark Twain

These beautiful words have been resonating in my mind and body for some time as I processed their meaning. I have become aware that as I really began to let go experience forgiveness I am so much freer. Any grievances, slights, sadness and resentments, small or large have been easier to diminish. I am not one to harbour negative feelings but I seldom forget a bruise to the soul- who does? Time and life tends to put a balm on it and then it appears to have dissipated, healed. Lurking deep within, these feelings sometimes resurface, can intermittently haunt and when you are truly ready, sometimes there are ways in which release ourselves from these pains.

Letting go was a thread, a theme that connected the girls at the Lake. For all of us, in varying degrees, there was something in our life that needed a symbolic exit to propel us forward or put to rest in peace. As we had been doing a yin practice, lakeside in the early morn, I decided to lead a last practise themed ‘letting go’. Mama W and Liz had also been part of this yoga routine and we were all emotionally open and charged during these sessions. The beauty of our surroundings, the wonder of being here together and the joy of such a deep practice resonating in our bodies was overwhelming -each shavasana and closing words had brought us all to tears more than once. Reese had snuck her way on to the jetty one morning and onto my lap as we ‘Namaste-d’, all teary, she found the right words: “Well, this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?” When we explained the meaning of ‘namaste’, she said, “How can one word mean so much?” Very insightful. 

Kate and I recognised the need to find a seal of closure on the friendships of the past and decided to write and burn some words to act as a symbolic and physical ending. We invited Liz and Mama W to join us in this good witchery. To all the good witches, particularly Steph and Elodie, thank you for your stories regarding this absolving technique. I remember Elodie describing to me how using this to let go of a stagnate feelings in a humble and thoughtful, processed way was extremely powerful but similarly a more recent anger or slight could be dealt with too. Take a paper, anything to write with, it does not need to be beautiful. Write the worst things in the world about that person or thing. Scribble, swear. Ugly words and then set it alight and poof!” Elodie said, leaning forward her eyes widening. “The bad is not in the universe and you will feel free of your anger.” She said she did this when working the snow season in the French mountains. As soon as she burnt her violent words full of profanities and insults, angry scribbles and etchings, she grabbed her snowboard and sauntered out, free as a bird, released from the chains of fury. I have yet to need this version of a burn and release but a more considered approach in the form of a letter, with kindness and forgiving would suit my personal trauma. So whatever us gals needed to rid, a little night of good witchery would set free in a symbolic burning of our words the pains or whatever emotions it was we were harbouring. It was great being girls together; the time in our lives when our mothers are our mamas but where are relationships have evolved to also embody friendships.

We conducted our witchcraft the following week. The girls had a meal out at a restaurant on Crescent Beach, in White Rock, called ‘The Cabin’. Perfect. After a dinner together which involved stories of the the time we left Canada, details and a retelling unmet heard by Kate and Liz, we headed down to the beach. Liz was armed with a lighter (ever organised: remember her ability to conjure up a plate of crudites as if from nowhere- a perfect witch skill if I ever knew one) and we all had our papers and written words. We sat on a log and shared in turn and then ceremoniously lit and let go our burdens. We walked back, cackling at Kate who had her briefcase in tow- she had headed to the restaurant straight from work. That teamed with her heels and her slightly inebriated stomp she had on, made her look like a modern day witch with some serious business to attend. Our sorcery had attracted a random local who had wanted to join us for a drink. He arrived wobbling on his bike and was apparently a bit of a local terror (he admitted himself, telling us that they do not normally let him in here but if we informed the waitress that he was invited to come and sit with us, he would buy us a drink). He had got Kate to hold his dog through the window of the restaurant while he attempted to negotiate his was way in. We wondered if this might also be a potential suitor for myself- he evidently believed so with a few comments he made. Declining his offer with kindness (and a few giggles), we explained that it was a girly night. He took Barley, the dog, from a bemused Kate and rode off into the night. We hoped not to meet him on our return journey- we felt pure from our cathartic witchery. In order to deflect him, Kate felt she could step up by giving him a whack him with her briefcase or a kick with her heels- may as well make use of these accessories. 

Meanwhile the boys had been on a different plane entirely. Harvey and Richard had been bonding over nasty poutine, Canadian football and a busty cheerleader at the game. They came back, Richard donning a baseball cap, both thrilled with themselves and their evening. Our nights could not have been more different and the exilirations that consumed both parties polar opposite in nature. The boys had a much more physical evening with the football game, junk food and their excited observation of Melissa and her impressive assets- we were subjected to the photographs- ours more on the spiritual and emotional plane. The men were keen to regale their tales but seemed quickly switched off when we wanted to share our story or our photos of a flickering flame in the moonlight (not a patch on Melissa, I guess).

So, us daughters and mothers, connected so perfectly, let go and shared this process. It seemed to make it all the more powerful. Here is a poem that I found and shared during our yoga session, lakeside:

I'm letting you go

I'm letting you go

Your heart is not mine to hold

I'm setting you free

Your setting me free

You know we're not meant to be

And you saved me 

And you say I need better

And you looked into my soul

You never understood me

And I gave you everything

And it left me empty

Now I'm climbing out of the hole

Now I'm ready

I'm picking myself back up today 

I'm gonna carry on this way

The past is behind me to stay

I've said everything I have to say

Better things are on the way

And now

I'm letting you go

I'm letting you go

Your heart is not mine to hold

I'm setting you free

You know we're not meant to be.