The art of letting go.

I realised something profound today. This very moment exactly. 21:47 on some or other day in August in the year 2011. Here is a quote that sums it up beautifully:

"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on." - Henry Ellis

I am a hoarder. I gather. I hold on to little scraps of paper, objects, clutter and junk because it has emotional value for me. A connection, no matter how small. As a result of this need to hoard emotional connections, I am now left with boxes of emotions. Packed everywhere. Lying around. Reminding me of events that have unfolded in my life that mean something to me. Good or bad. Mostly bad for some reason, as those are the strongest emotions. A photo kept in a wallet of the one now past. The pain flooding back with each viewing.  The pain. The stab in my heart when I see something he gave me, reminding me of how good it was and how much it hurts now.

Strange, this habit i've developed. Things that make me hurt, remind me of my unhappy state of affairs. This is surely not natural. It cannot be. It must be a flaw. I am not scared to admit my flaws, as that I think is the first step in getting to heal them. It does not make it easier though.

As the quote says, it's an art to know when to hold on and when to let go. A fucking difficult art to master. I am very much a novice. Just when I think I have let go, I find myself gripping tighter onto the memory. Onto the pain. It lets me know i'm still an emotional person. It's feeling something. I let you go, in my head I believed it, but my heart never did. I hoarded you. Put you in a box to keep safe. To keep the pain alive.

There is another problem with the hoarding. It keeps me so busy, I do not have time to live. I have to take each memory out of the box and dust it, polish it and keep it alive. "Every man dies. Not every man really lives. " resonates in my head! Have I given up what I have lived in my life to boxes of hurt. Is this the life I have chosen? Pathetic Ray! Snap too it.

Life is short. It's not something to waste on such things. On such trivial hurt. Life life Ray. Make the most of it. Say goodbye to the boxes of hurt and pain. Forget about the one that got away. He got away for a reason. It's your paths in life. Walk your separate ways. Forget. Learn the art of letting go.

"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on." - Henry Ellis