Letting Go, or How I Became a Wise Old Owl

Street art near the Ponte Vecchio, Florence, Italy

Self-acceptance and letting go have a lot in common. After reaching 70,  I found that the latter is mostly a function of the former – and vice versa.

The scars from my childhood wounds will always be there, but they no longer bleed, itch or burn. There is no need to revisit or nurture them. It’s best to keep where they belong, in the past – in never-never land.

As a younger adult, I learned from a therapist who helped me through difficult times that the best way to make hard decisions was to first ask myself the following questions: What am I the most afraid of? What is the worst that could happen? I found that the answers surfaced shortly thereafter to point me in the right direction.

Another source of personal growth came through my involvement with AlAnon 45 years ago. From then on, I practiced remembering daily that the only person I can control is myself, and the only behavior I can change is mine. I found that going with the flow was a lot less work than going against it.

At this point in my life, taking life too seriously has gone by the wayside. It weighs too heavily on the heart and interferes with the healing power of laughter. There is little merit in gloominess, but much of it in lightheartedness. I prefer the latter to the former.

I have decided to stop anguishing about the dreadful events which threaten daily our society, our planet and the peace of our world. There is not a thing I can personally do about any of it a, and it will evolve into what it’s meant or bound to be, no matter how much sleep I lose over it – or not. I chose to preserve my emotional and mental energy to deal with those I can effectively alter in some way or another.

Regrets and guilt have been deleted from my “third age” script, for being unproductive if not downright destructive. Nothing can be redone or taken back or erased. The futile statements “I wish I had…”, or “I shouldn’t have…”, or “If only I…” were deliberately banned from my vocabulary. I simply tell myself, that was then, this is now. 

No matter what I did or do, I never have been, nor will I ever be thin, despite a myriad diets and treatments, through all my teen years, and again since I turned 70. I’ll soon be dead and nobody will care how many pounds I should have lost to look “right.” Including not only me, but my good friends who will, I hope, only remember me by how much I loved them. I now joyfully allow myself to enjoy chocolate and pasta, within reason but without guilt.

Saying “No” to some things and some people didn’t come easily, for fear of not caring enough, or doing enough, or helping enough. I now feel I have paid my caring, doing and helping dues. And my younger days’ “superwoman” self-image has faded into never-never land.

I no longer yearn for what I failed to learn, or mourn for what I have forgotten, while truly enjoying what I know – even if I forget some of it, and look forward to what I have yet to learn -- hoping that I’ll remember most of it. 

By now, my daily life is anchored in three convictions:
- Because the corrosive nature of cynicism saddens my soul, I don’t allow it to color the glasses through which I see the world and life. Looking at the upside of anything is a surer way to enjoy life and people.
- In most cases, though not all, I prefer looking at change as an opportunity for growth, not a threat to my security.
- Now that I am able to forgive myself for my shortcomings, limitations, failures and weaknesses, I hope that those who love me can do the same.