“Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die”

I came here to work. This solo retreat is the first time that I’ve left my family since before quarantine. The first time I have ever actually planned a getaway just for me to disconnect from the world.

I had plans. I had a vision. I packed a tiny bag for my clothes and a giant bag for my books, notebooks, binders, art supplies, oracle cards, cords and chargers, and a multitude of pens and pencils. I used our resources to pay for something for just me. I left my husband and child for a few days. I was going to have something to show for it.

The first night was full of purpose after I arrived. Unpacking, dinner, online yoga class and early to bed. I’d be ready for the next day which was going to be a day of solid work.

I’m ashamed to admit what I actually did yesterday. Not because I did it, but because of how silly it seems in hindsight. I spent close to 5 hours trying desperately to untangle my favorite necklaces that apparently had a wild party in my jewelry bag on the way here. I was laser focused—a woman possessed. I went through the 5 stages of grief…twice. Living in fear that I had (once again) ruined things that were important to me. That I’d wasted money that I didn’t earn (Mike earns most of the money) if I broke any of them. All the while, the clock was counting every minute of squandered time of my retreat. Cha-ching…another minute and another dollar. What was I going to have to show for this trip? How would I justify it?

Not long after I reached my limits and threw the whole pile across the room, I let go. I went onto the deck to watch the boats and the ducks. I watched the evening sky change into a multitude of colors. I let my shoulders relax, poured myself a glass of wine and did some easy work that allowed me to feel that the day wasn’t lost. I went to bed before 9pm.

This morning I woke up early when a dear friend texted me to remind me that it was Beltane, a day of magic and celebration. I made some tea, stayed in bed, and watched old movies on TCM. It felt luxurious to get a slow start to the day. I didn’t even think about touching the pile of necklaces. I didn’t feel wasteful lounging.

Later I drew two oracle cards while listening to some quiet music. As I began to turn the cards over, I heard Bradley Cooper sing in the background, “Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die” over and over. The irony hit me like a sledgehammer and I had a good laugh. I saw Isis and Master Buddha looking up at my from the cards—reminding me that magic is afoot Reminding me that ascension requires letting go of what not longer serves you. Grieving and honoring who you thought you were and the images projected upon you. Remembering who you truly are at your core. Who you have always been deep inside. The path back to you.

What no longer serves me? The concepts of scarcity and brokenness. They are illusions. The desperate need for productivity as a measure of my value. Shame about mistakes or things gone awry. The fear of being seen resting and judged as lazy or ungrateful. The compulsion to justify my needs and actions, especially when no one is asking me to. Not believing my husband when he wholeheartedly encourages me to take care of myself and doesn't see the money as his or mine—but ours. He knows that we are better together when I am happy and rested.

I came here expecting divine guidance. I expected plans and details to be channeled from above to my pen. I would leave with a business plan and goals. I would have an outline of the the year on paper.

I did get divine guidance. But it wasn’t through my pen. It came in the form of a tangled mess of necklaces.

Maybe it’s ok to watch the ducks and the boats. Maybe it’s ok to rest. Maybe it’s ok to clear the noise for a few days so I can hear my own thoughts. Maybe it is ok to just sit and remember who I truly am. Whole. Loved. Blessed. Maybe it’s time to let the old ways die.

Letting go is making space for all the magic yet to come.

Letting go is a step closer back to who I truly am.