The Catharsis of Letting Go
There have been so many instances in my life where I find myself clinging to something painful rather than letting it go. I often find myself wondering: if it hurts, why would I want to hold onto it?
It’s logical when you think about it, but life is rarely that easy. Our emotions can make things complicated— but they can also bring so much clarity if we’re willing to lean in and listen (and feel).
I’ve realized that we hold on not because we want to keep the pain in our lives, but because we’re afraid of confronting the truth. We’re afraid of feeling the pain. The irony is that it’s actually much more painful to keep holding on than it is to let go. You’ll hurt as long as you hold on; the pain of letting go is temporary, and after comes relief.
As someone who used to (and still does at times) shove down emotions instead of feeling them, I know how hard it can be to allow yourself to feel the wide spectrum of emotions we have access to. Over the years I’ve practiced and have gotten better at the whole process. Knowing what to generally expect makes it a lot easier to go through. I know how shitty it’ll feel, but I also know how fucking good it feels after. For me, what comes after is great mental relief and silence, no more raging thoughts around a particular person or situation. There is a general feeling of peace that entirely encompasses me. I also feel an immense weight in my chest lifted, and I feel like I can breathe more clearly. Like I’ve just unclogged a blocked channel and now everything can flow normally again.
When we’ve held onto something for a long time, it can feel like it’s become a part of us, a part of our personality. We’re not just someone who’s angry at a person, we become an angry person. Whatever emotions you don’t release, they have nowhere else to go but bleed into all aspects of your life. You start by being angry with one person about one thing and suddenly you’re angry at the world for everything.
Our bodies express emotions through physical sensations. Everything begins as a whisper. Life will whisper to you too. Maybe you’re unaligned with a job or a relationship or a certain habit. You will be nudged with whispers, but if you’re not quiet and still enough to listen, you won’t hear them. What happens when you can’t hear what’s being said to you? The speaker is forced to be louder— and louder, and louder, until you listen to what they’re trying to tell you. The louder it becomes, the more uncomfortable it feels, the more you try to suppress it or ignore it, but it becomes harder and harder to do that. Repressed emotions can lead to disease and physical ailments, and sometimes that is still not enough. I see many people continue to suffer and bear the burden rather than dealing with their emotions. This isn’t a judgement, just an observation. I’ve been there many times myself. I can look back and see the correlation between certain injuries or illnesses and the emotions of what was going on in my life at the time, or not listening to the whispers. I’ve also experienced the miraculous healing of my body by processing, feeling, and letting go of repressed emotions. A lot of people won’t believe in this, and I can understand that. But think about how many times you’ve been really stressed out, and then you get sick? Or you’ve been holding onto anger and then you get skin irritations, rashes, or inflammation? Once you begin to see, it will be impossible to unsee.
Our emotions are such a powerful thing. They can feel like an enemy or an ally depending on if you work with them or against them. Working against them can make you unwell. Working with them can heal you. I absolutely believe in traditional, scientific medicine. It’s an invaluable resource that has improved general health and longevity, and we’ve learned so much through research and inventions. I will aways be grateful to have access to modern healthcare. I also absolutely believe in the power of being able to heal yourself through the way you think and feel. I don’t believe one is better than the other, I don’t believe the answer lies in only one route of healing. I think bridging the gap between the two and learning how to incorporate both into our lives is a holistic approach. Because I’ve seen within myself (and others) how taking medicine can cure something, but also how sometimes it doesn’t because the underlying problem hasn’t been addressed. To treat the symptoms by addressing the root problem is ultimately how we heal.
At the end of the day, we truly have so much power within ourselves, but I think we’re quite used to feeling disempowered and victimized (sometimes rightfully so). At a certain point, I think it becomes important to ask yourself if that’s truly the way you want to live. Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional. Pain will come, but it doesn’t need to stay longer than it’s meant to. Let it teach you, and let it go. It brings to mind this beautiful poem by Rumi:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.