Updated: Jan 21
I was on my way to therapy last week to meet with him and his therapist.
He had called me on Tuesday night upset. He was tired, he said. Tired of hanging on. It's been six months and we're STILL HERE! I heard him. I listen and I think I am fairly good at understanding what he is going through. I know how frustrating it can be.
I tried to explain to him the idea of "letting go."
I explain it like this...
Imagine yourself in a canoe on a rapid river that has a lot of strength, a lot of force, and you are back paddling back paddling back paddling fiercely. There is a waterfall ahead, and you don't know how to go over.
So you control everything and you hang on as tight as you can and you paddle and you paddle and you paddle and you never go anywhere.
That, my friends, is exhausting.
He thinks what I mean by letting go is to let go completely. To be done with me. He doesn't know how to let go and still work on us. He thinks that means moving on.
This is not what I mean at all. I want nothing more than for us to be together. I wish for nothing more than what I thought we had. However, I feel like I can't get close to him. I feel like there is an agenda. A timeline. An expectation. And I can't put it in words, but it makes it hard to draw closer. I wonder, I suppose, who he really is. Only because if he is hanging on for dear life like this, there is no way that can last.
I talk a lot about this idea of the Middle Space. This idea of going over the waterfall to see what's there. Letting go. Surrendering.
How do you do that? What does that look like? What if I crash and hurt myself?
I love the term "Let Go, Let God"
I believe it's an idea of faith. An action of surrender to be here. To ground. To find yourself in this space and understand that it isn't what you would want, maybe, at this time. But it is what it is.
Letting God catch you in the middle of the water-fall.
I like to think I am in the middle space. Like, on my way down from the waterfall I found a ledge and I am just hanging out in that space. It's nice and cozy. Not what I ultimately want, but for the time being, I am functioning and living and learning and breathing. And, if life is like that for the rest of my days, I am okay. I have my boys, and my body, and my God, and I am good.
I like to think of it like whatever we are going through, never ends. I like to think of it as I will always always always continue to learn and to grow and go over the waterfall over and over and over again. Never be done, because every time there is a new waterfall, I have something new to learn.
My friend wrote me this text the other day.
"Hi. I have a question for you... there's something you've said a few times that I've wondered what you meant. You said you were just in that middle space. Or something like that. Yesterday as I was riding the motorcycle I felt I was being taught and your words came to my mind but I'm not sure I understand their meaning. I feel God was telling me that in this life we will never "arrive." We will always be in that middle space and be learning, no matter what's going on in our lives. I've always felt this push and drive to be more, do more, accomplish more. I've felt that because I haven't written a book yet and I'm not the freaking general relief society president or that because I'm not well known and touching thousands of lives like I need to hurry up and get my shit together. So yesterday I was feeling that what I do each day is simply part of my learning experience here on earth and it's all valuable? Is that the middle space?"
"Yes, friend. That's exactly right. That's the middle space. Not controlling the outcome, just living everyday present and being the best you can. Learning and growing. Never arriving"
Being in the middle space is super hard. I feel like I am in the middle space with everything right now.
I love to watch and see. Watch and observe. Breathe and be here.
I am definitely in that middle space. And my heart was at peace and I knew things were good.
I love you,