Letting Go

There comes a moment when the hands grow tired of holding.

We cling to what was — a memory, a hope, a wound —

believing that if we hold tightly enough,

we can stop the river from flowing.

But the river does not ask our permission to move.

It carries all things onward — the fallen leaf, the broken branch,

the reflection of the sky.

It asks only that we trust its current.

Letting go is not losing.

It is seeing that there was never anything to possess.

Each person, each moment, is a visitor —

arriving, staying for a while, and then passing on.

When we release our grasp,

we make room for peace to enter.

When we loosen the knot of “mine” and “me,”

The heart begins to breathe again.

Do not be afraid to let go.

The tree does not mourn the leaf that falls,

for it knows that in time, new leaves will come.

In the same way, when you release what weighs you down,

you make space for light to return.

So breathe deeply.

Open your palms.

Let the past drift like petals upon the stream.

You lose nothing that was ever truly yours —

you only return to the freedom that was always waiting.