Prune the tree of your life

I have the hardest time letting go.

Clothes that no longer fit. Books I no longer read. That blender that’s the most god-awful thing to clean which was a gift from my mom. I lost my mom not long ago, but the blender remains, full of life.

I try to balance all that not-letting go with common sense and practicality. I declutter and donate, recycle or give away things when they pile up to dangerous levels (but not until then).

Still, it’s easier with things. Not so much with thoughts, people, or stubborn ideas clutched within mental iron fists.

You can’t fill up cardboard boxes with thoughts that make you feel small, slap on some duct tape and hand those off to charity. No one wants those.

You can’t stuff bags with old friendships that didn’t last the test of time because they hurt too much or starved your heart.

And you certainly can’t leave out on your porch the grand plans you were SURE would let the world know you had “arrived”, that you were worthy, that you had made it, or the failure you felt because those narrow, externally-validated plans didn’t turn out the way you expected when you were young and cute and thought that life moves in a straight line.

Oh no no no.

Those choices, those decisions, while perhaps well-intentioned were but seeds.

As you grow through life, there are flowers and there are fruits but there are also thorns and spines. There are droughts and parasites and plenty of rain and not enough sun.

Inevitably, in the ongoing dance between surviving and thriving, life will feel heavy or wrong or tight and twisted.

So every now and then you have to pause and prune the tree of your life.

You have to clean out and cut away and let go.

It can be sad and you might need time to grieve. But if you accept that there are seasons of life, you can find it in yourself to make peace and let go, so that new things can sprout and grow.

You can let go so the sun can find its way in, so good things that got buried can resurface, so you can realize that you can, in fact, survive without the shiny but essentially empty.

You can even reconnect with the idea that letting go makes more space and gives you room to breathe and as hard as it was, you feel better. You are better. That letting go opens the gate to moving forward.

So take a moment, and really look around.

Maybe there are clothes or dishes or polite gifts or old promises that you need to say goodbye to, to let more light in, to feel your light inside.

As for me, I have a blender I need to clean one last time.