Why is it so hard to let go? Not to let go of a certain situation, but to let go in general? When I think I’ve allowed myself to sink into the comfort of present reality, I something out of the corner of my eye that terrifies me. Why? Probably because my conscious mind is searching desperately for something to fear because that’s its habit. My rational mind knows that something creeping in the periphery is nothing to fear, but my emotional instinct erects some protective barrier before I can even blink. The barrier inflicts friction for no reason other than habit. Clinging to routine and depriving the rest of me (aside from that ego) of growth.
I’ve learned through therapy that feelings like this are reactions developed in response to external stimuli. The feelings want to be acknowledged, respected, and nurtured. It’s tough to do when I really want nothing to do with those feelings at all. But that’s near the root of the problem. I’ve been burying them for longer than I can remember. But I vow to learn to show love to that pain and anxiety. Dammit!
Why are we so scared to be honest with people we feel close to? Is the threat of pain more powerful than the reward of honesty and possibility of a deeper mutual appreciation?
I recently advised a friend to communicate honestly with someone he cares about and is unsure of her intentions. Easier said than done. First, you have to be honest with yourself about where the anxiety is coming from. Then you have to nurture it. And everything will then unfold as it should. That’s the scary part for me, letting it be. As much as I know it’s right, it’s still my instinct to fight it. But I’m going to lay down my arms if it’s the last thing I do.