As summer turns to fall and the leaves on the trees begin to change to their autumn hues, I notice, also, the summer blossoms that linger.
It’s as if summer is holding on, not wanting to give way to the changing season.
It strikes me that we, too, can be that way—not always excited about change and often reluctant to let go and embrace a new season. Even when we’re willing, we can experience some level of resistance. Why is that?
As the old adage goes, we’re creatures of habit. But is it our habitual nature alone that creates this resistance to letting go—to releasing our hold, our desire for control?
It seems that change does not come without at least a bit of discomfort, something asked of us. And I wonder, is our reluctance to let go the product of fear? What is it that we fear?
Psychology tells us that we have such a strong need for security, that we’re more comfortable with what we’ve known than with the uncertainty of what might be. In this regard, we often cling to what has been, even when it’s not what’s best for us or those around us.
It may be easy to claim, “Well that just doesn’t make sense!” Yet, it happens. If we’re being honest with ourselves, at some point we’ve each been reluctant to embrace something new or different which turned out to be good for us.
Sadly though, this stubbornness is a way of life for many. I like to refer to this phenomenon as being comfortably uncomfortable. In these situations, out of a fear of discomfort and uncertainty, we cling to the familiar. We see this manifesting in all aspects of life, from small matters to extremely consequential ones, and, commonly, it stems from undetected, even harmful, patterns.
Another side to change is one which includes natural, however difficult, seasons of life. It’s those which are expected. We know they’re going to happen eventually, but, even so, the change is most challenging.
Some of these events are significant ones—our kids grow up and leave home, our parents and grandparents age and pass away. These events, while inevitable circumstances of life and often transitions of beauty and meaning, can be most painful.
Holding beauty and grief simultaneously requires a great deal of us. It asks us to expand within our nature and grow in spirit. Even through seasons which call for celebration, grief can be healthy and life-giving.
Sometimes, part of grief is resistance, and it can reveal itself in the form of control. When something is happening or has happened that is beyond our control, we might grasp for anything and everything that we (think we) can take control of.
The thing is, this doesn’t get to the root of the issue. It’s simply a defense to distract us from what we’re actually going through and feeling. And for a while, it works! But, ultimately, it doesn’t bring peace and it doesn’t support growth. I know this is true for me; I recognize it in myself.
We avoid facing the resistance—acknowledging its presence, welcoming it, and sitting with those awful feelings that will arise when we do so. Recognizing it, working through it, and remaining open to change is the only way to eventually begin to release.
We don’t want to do this, frankly, because it’s uncomfortable and exhausting. You know what’s worse though? Not doing it—not caring enough for our well-being, and avoiding discomfort at all costs. Avoidance is the antithesis of growth. And when a new season is upon us, there is indeed an invitation to grow.
As a whole, our society is not very good at grieving—in particular, recognizing grief and allowing appropriate time and space for it.
Making time for solitude in order to allow for the integration of all that we go through in our lives is crucial. Yet, we seldom do it; we seldom give ourselves permission—the grace, self-compassion, and presence to heal.
One of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves is presence. We can be attentive to the parts of us that grasp and cling, resistant to letting go. It is there that we can begin to see and understand the depth of our hearts—what’s important to us—and listen for how we might begin to release and allow space for growth.
As the leaves begin to change and release their grip, how can we, too, enter a season of release?
Perhaps, we can begin by taking a few deep breaths and releasing some of the tension that we’re carrying around in our bodies (we should do this again and again).
Then, perhaps we can ask ourselves two questions:
“Where in my life is my grasp for control keeping me from easing gracefully and peacefully into a new season?”
“What do I need to let go of?”
The trees are about to show us how lovely it is to let things go. —Unknown
