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Anxiety and Fear

The Art of Letting Go

“I’m the wind; blowing past all fields, oceans, mountains, rivers and, past you. I’ll be a serene breeze, or I’ll be a wrecking rage, I may ring a chime for you, or gift you a beautiful perfume, but I must flow. For if I stay, I’ll become an abhorrent stillness.

I’ll come back some day, some time, though you’ll not be the same. If you’ll recognize me, I can not say, if I’ll recognize you is uncertain too, but we’ll meet again. A million essences I embrace, as I flow through a hundred seasons, but yours, I may not forget. I have loved you, and will love you, but I must go on now, to pick up fallen leaves, to whistle in green trees, to help the sailors sail, I must leave now.”

Yes, however painful, this part is the most fulfilling of our journey to bliss. To “let go” of situations, of people, however dear; to let go painful memories bottled up in us. To ‘let go’ of every devil in us disguised as god. And to let in beautiful, brighter experiences and pour in new colors and flavors. Be like the wind, fierce and placid, never too attached, but always embracing everything it meets.

Let us learn from our own example.

An obstetrician would be quite familiar with it, but we all do know how we came into this world. The newborn cries. The cord is cut and he is out of the warm and safe place he has considered his world. I think only if babies could think like we do, they would have yelled “they tried murdering me”. From such a cozy warmth to suddenly the vast space full of sounds and colors and people. So much to take in!

But think, was it possible that we didn’t leave that haven, and yet be born, see so much, feel so much and be what we are? No. We had to let I go.

Dragonflies, beautiful, and one of the fastest flying insects would never have opened their wings for flight if they never climbed above the water surface. When they are larvae, submerged in water, they would wonder what the world would be like beyond their limit. But one of them might have come up to surface, slowly climbing a weed, and its shell would have broken-and it must have took its first flight. But it might have realized later that it can’t go back to where it was and tell others what a beautiful world awaits them. It has to be alone on his path now and enjoy what life offered it. Each must find their own way. See the bitterness and yet the sweetness of letting go? ... Read More

About the author

Bhavini Jha

“Only if life could be coded, it would be decoded”.

Love to write, passionate about life.

Working in Mumbai, Maharashtra 

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