My car was eleven years old when I traded it in for a new one. I remember driving it very cautiously because the shocks were well-worn. I drove around potholes and avoided bumps of any kind. I didn’t want to hit a hole and crack a shock on the Mass Pike. When I got my new car I caught myself doing the same thing – being wary of potholes. After awhile I inadvertently hit one and noticed how softly the car bumped over it. I didn’t hear it and I barely felt it.
Driving home from fit club today I hit a few more bumps in the road and realized it took eleven years to wear out those shocks on my old car. My new one is barely three months old. It is going to take a long time for those shocks to get to the point where I have to baby them like I did in my old car. Cars, clothes, and ideas, wear out. The thing is, they take a long time to wear out to the point where they must be discarded. This is the crux of letting go of something.
I have done a lot of writing in this blog on the topic of letting go. I figured out that even if I wanted to let go of someone or something, even if I knew it had to go out of my life because it was bogging me down, I couldn’t do it. I’d constantly keep going back to it. People would keep reminding that I need to let it go. I’d wander in circles wondering why, even after deciding to let it go, it’s still here. I didn’t realize this was the wearing out process. Each of us, must, on our own timeline, wear out that which we must shed. If the threads aren’t bare and it’s still in working order, limping along with a touch of usefulness, we will hang onto it until we wear it out. This is not only true for cars, clothes, and even jobs, but for people and relationships, too.
How many times have you seen someone hurt in a relationship and you could just shake them for holding on? To you it’s so apparent they need to let this person go and move on, they even agree with you, yet they’re still clutching for dear life. It’s because they haven’t worn it out yet and no amount of egging on from you is going to hurry the process. One day, in their own time, they will notice the tatters and just quietly let go. No big fanfare. No declarations. They will just silently discover it’s worn out. Ironically this wearing out business comforts me. I now see it’s okay to not be able to let go, even if you decide to. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s all part of the wearing out process necessary to letting go.
And so, as another day goes by, I look around and notice the tatters, quietly put out the trash, feel a bit lighter, and…I have written.
I’ve taken a long ride on this road…