A Year of Letting Go and Letting Be

Why I’m resetting my intentions this November

For me, November has often been the month for new beginnings. More so than New Years. It is because I feel more restless in November than in any other month.

I started writing on Medium in November last year. Though instead of celebrating my one-year anniversary with renewed enthusiasm, I find that I’m spending far less time writing, checking my Medium email, or reading this month than in past months.

Even so, I am proud of my decision to write here and the progress I’ve made so far. I am ever so grateful for the incredible writers I’ve discovered and connected to. They have made me feel much less alone. This period of detachment is only temporary. I know it in my bones.

“Have nothing in your homes that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”

— William Morris

With November also has come my birthday and a slew of itches — an itch to clean up and an itch to let go.

When the clock struck 11:11 on my birthday, 11/11, I made a prayer of thanks to life and all the people who have been there for me. I committed to challenging myself more and procrastinating less.

Earlier this week I woke up with an intense urge to find and get rid of all the possessions I no longer needed or used. I began with my clothes. At the end of day, I had dropped two white garbage bags full of clothes and bags and two boxes of books and DVDs at our local Goodwill.

Then I tackled boxes of files and papers that I’d been avoiding for years. I dropped at least five brown paper bags full of papers into our recycling bin. I said goodbye to all the notebooks from the schools I attended and the courses I took. Why I had kept them for so long is beyond me.

I went from corner to corner and room to room scanning for things my family hadn’t touched for years. I let go of some artwork we had never really found space for in our home.

Now our rooms look tidier and our closets more organized and spacious. Getting rid of stuff feels good. Even the air smells fresher. Even though both my husband and I are fans of the Minimalist lifestyle, we still managed to collect stuff without noticing. During this process, I re-learned this lesson:

Piles of stuff we don’t deal with today can become mountains of stuff tomorrow.

“You can find parts of what you need in a million different places, but you always have to come home, to yourself, for the cure.”

— Amy Scher

With November also came fatigue. I’ve been taking it easy. Each day I curl up on the sofa sipping tea and reading paper books, something I haven’t done for ages. I am now reading This is How I Save My Life, by Amy Scher. In it, she chronicles her experience with late-stage Lyme disease and her search to find the cure in a stem cell clinic in India.

As I read about her struggles, it’s become evident to me that mind plays a big part in healing.

Allowing the mind to let go of control is essential for healing. I have chosen not to think about fatigue. I just let it be. This year I had a few minor illnesses and some aches and pains here and there. Nothing new. What is new is my attitude towards them. I no longer freak out as I used to when I became sick.

I’ve started doing a strange ritual whenever I feel pain. I sit down to meditate, thanking the pain for being there but not being more than what I could handle. I practice not minding the inconvenience that these minor pains bring. I let them come and then go.

“Spend the afternoon, you can’t take it with you.”

— Annie Dillard

With November came the rain to California. The first time it rained, I was in the back patio of an Italian restaurant celebrating my birthday with my husband and son. We had finished our meal except for dessert. The rain that fell on my cake made the occasion more memorable.

Last Friday I took my son out to a park with his three closest friends for their daily dose of fresh air and activity. We’ve been taking turns with their parents taking them out for a couple of hours each day. The boys are so good at wearing their masks though they won’t keep the physical distance.

Because I forgot my phone at home, I had nothing to do but watch them play. On a small grassy hill, they wrestled, tumbled, and rolled down the hill while laughing with pure joy. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I was already feeling nostalgic about the moment I was in. I wanted it to last. I am not looking forward to the day when my son becomes too big to play with wild abandon.

I make a mental note to work on letting go of my attachment to time. As Annie Dillard reminds us, we need to spend our afternoons well since we can’t take them with us.

This morning I woke up with an urge to journal. Hooray! I am still writing and I will be writing — this will always be a part of my life. That is a promise I made to myself a year ago when I started writing on Medium and it is a promise I will keep.

This time, though, I intend to do more journaling and perhaps share some of it here as in this piece. I regret not having journaled enough in years past. I’ve had many adventures and experiences worth remembering and learning from.

I’ve traveled to interesting places including Hungary, where I stayed alone for three weeks seeking medical treatment. If only I had written down my thoughts and feelings during these times. It is frustrating to look back and remember only bits and pieces of past events, however vivid and colorful they were at the time.

But that is okay. I let it be and let go of these regrets, too.

Thank you for reading.