What if you just let go? Let it all go? All your attachments: your life as you know it, your identity, what you think of other people, of what other people think of you? All the people, places, things, thoughts, feelings, and values that define you, you just let go of all of it. Any and all ideas you have about who you are, what is and how it supposed to be, vanishing in the distance as you voluntarily let them go? The stories about your childhood, about the person who cut you off in the parking lot, about “How come that person has more than me or isn’t as good?” Who did what to you, who didn’t do enough. Who owes you, who you need to avenge. How you are going to save the world, your child, the animals, yourself.
The need to do it right, to be right, to be taller, thinner, better looking, stronger, more patient, have a budget, drink less, exercise more, take back those things in the trunk that have been there for weeks, clean the windows for spring, get a new housekeeper, fire the old one. Look for a better job, reinvent yourself, get liposuction, re-position your brand, redo your bio, get on Facebook, get off Facebook. Botox, blow jobs and low-ash cat food. The Oscars, the Grammies, male celebrities humping 26 groupies, female celebrities’ despicable sleazy husbands, fix up your house, get a loan, speed date, porn sites, pole dancing, Vegas, pay your taxes, volunteer, help your friend out of debt, start your garden, get a SmartCar, take surfing lessons, go back to school.
What the government is doing—or not—and how you could do it better. What other people should be doing instead of what they are doing, and how obvious that is. What time you should get up, what time you should get to bed, eat lunch, color your roots, get rid of that old couch, that bad relationship, your shitty attitude, and go to Costco because you think it’s cheaper.
That you should buy gold, stop drinking Diet Coke, boycott Starbucks, and hurry, before the movie starts. That you’re smarter, more evolved, more competent, a leader, are here to do something BIG, are special, entitled and privileged. That you’re a fast reader, a slow learner, have a powerful job, or are tired of being unemployed. That you’re sensitive, fragile, fierce, overwhelmed, overworked and underpaid, discriminated against—and if someone could just see who you really were, maybe you would believe it yourself. That you’re: going to invent the next big idea, psychic, mentally gifted, broken, different than most people, don’t eat meat, don’t like rice, can’t stand when people wear perfume, thinking your boyfriend is having an affair, growing your hair out, thinking people who take meds are weak, wish there were no commercials, hate reality TV, obsess with Red Bull, and think you need sex.
That your computer is too slow, Mercury retrograde is bad, online dating will save you, and that wearing a size 4 means you’re hot. That rich people suck, corporations are corrupt, and “life is hard and then you die.” That there is someone out there that will save you, that you may go to hell, or that telling someone the way it is will help them see the light. That being nice will make people like you, or that not having sex means someone might leave. Your favorite restaurant, favorite pair of shoes, favorite city to travel to. That you need to meditate or relax.
Your voicemail/email/twitter/fan page/texting, your iphone/u-verse/ipod and navigation system. A way to erase spam from the universe, and that you need to avoid all stupid people. That there is someone else to be with, somewhere else to live, a different president, better weather; that if you just had more money everything would be ok. That you need to: do another workshop, make amends, forgive yourself, trust, learn another language, and get that spot on your cheek checked. That you need to have a sob story so that people will feel sorry for you and give you their money because they have extra and should just give it to you and not want anything in return. That seasonal fashion matters, that people have taste/no taste/poor taste/need to look in the mirror before they leave the house. That you need to wax, cleanse, wear Spanx, minimize your pores, maximize your checking account. That you’re a metrosexual, homosexual, menopausal diva beer-guzzling antler collector, one who highly recommends washing your produce, biodegradable tampons, and sitting cross-legged while reciting mudras—and that there is a right thing to say or do for you to become enlightened. That there is “a path,” “the way,” “the truth,” and there is actually a best life and a better version of yourself than who you are right now.
That anyone knows what’s best for you, that it matters if you are loved, and that there is such a thing as a soul mate. That there is anywhere to get—but you had better get there before it’s gone, as there are only so many windows of opportunity. That anything is bad or good, positive or negative, hurry up, slow down, that there is such a thing as success and failure and that anyone’s life is anyone’s responsibility. That when we die that’s the end, and that those pants make your butt look small. Phone chargers, the Home Shopping Network, legal drinking age, legalizing pot, networking, social media strategies, wearing clean underwear, bio-identical hormones, vitamins, birth control, the child you gave up for adoption, the person you are most in love with, your car, all your clothes, your jewelry, family photos, your art that you think you mean something because you own, your designer watch, that you’re secretly a poser, that you are riding on someone’s coattails, and that you hear the housing market is taking a turn.
That everyone you know is struggling, many people you know are sick, a third of our nation is obese, times are tough, life is short, and that if you pray hard enough God will reward you instead of the three-hundred-thousand other people who died in the latest catastrophe, write you a personal check and make it all better. That things are getting worse/looking up, the earth’s magnetic poles are shifting, and blue is the new black. That you have nothing to give up—and let that go, too.
What if you let all that go?
Imagine it if you can, even for a moment. Go through the life you live right now and let it all go. Who would you be? Good for you! Now let that go too! You may find that death becomes you…