Live the questions to let go

Letting go. Or as Elsa belted out in Frozen “Let it go!” How many times have we heard that phrase in our lives? Personally, I used to hate this phrase. Too simplistic. Too trite. And if I let go, that would mean I didn’t care. Which wasn’t true, usually. Let’s face it, it’s hard to let go, especially to something that has served us or benefited us in some way.

But when we find ourselves in liminal space, aka the waiting room, actively waiting (seems like a paradox) can actually help us. Letting go is a practice, not a “one and done” mic drop. Letting go can feel like a death of sorts when we release anything or anyone that we have clung to. It can feel painful, sad, weird, uncomfortable. It’s a loss of control. I have heard letting go described as self-emptying. Ponder that.

While the practice of letting go can feel like grieving, it helps widen our field of consciousness. Makes us more expansive. It creates space for newness. We can learn to cultivate an awareness and courage to recognize an opportune moment. It helps us get ready and stay ready for what is next.

Letting go provides us new opportunities, new learning, new ways of seeing, new relationships. Honestly, it’s the beginning of transformation.

Letting go can be scary because we don’t know what will happen next. Have you noticed as a culture we have an addiction to certainty? We want to know The Plan. Many of us have received cultural messaging that we should follow a prescribed road map to do life. We like being able to find info on Google in mere seconds, enforcing our need for answers right now.

While the appearance of certainty may provide a sense of security and stability, it can inhibit our growth. The unknown is full of possibilities. An invitation to keep evolving and growing. We need to remember that when we find ourselves resisting or clinging. 

Recently, I visited the store Marigold and True in Sisters, Oregon, the shop of one of my favorite artists, Kelly Rae Roberts. She describes herself as a “possibilitarian” on one of the plaques in the shop. How awesome is that? Letting go gives us the opportunity to be a Possibilitarian.

In the past, I have thought about the notion of letting go, but struggled to understand what that looked like. I’m a person of action, a doer. It’s a blessing and a curse. Richard Rohr emphasizes “we live our way into new ways of thinking” rather than thinking our way into new ways of living. Makes sense. Kind of.

In late winter/early spring I read When the Heart Waits. Author Sue Monk Kidd encourages the reader to live the questions. “Huh?” I thought. My reaction was an indication to ruminate on this for a while. 

Finally one day, I leaned into my questions, the rumblings in my liminal space. I wrote them out. THIS I could do. THIS felt like a useful, actionable thing in my practice of letting go.

What does it look like to live the questions? Here are some nuggets I’m learning:

• Wonder. Adopt a posture of genuine curiosity. For me, I began each question with “I wonder what/if/when/how….?”
• Ask the questions in writing. Us list makers find joy writing a list of questions.
• Do not worry about the answer(s). That is not the point. The answer will be revealed in time. Or it may not. And that is okay.
• Get comfortable with a little bit of mystery. Remember: the unknown is full of possibilities. Flex your faith muscles.
• Revisit and/or revise your questions as necessary, or whenever you feel like it. Stay curious.

Ultimately, living the questions has propelled me into a new realm of liminal space. I “let go” of the status quo and recently resigned from my job of four years. I don’t know what’s next, but I plan to keep leaning into the questions.