Let It Go

(Just a note: this is definitely not Lectio Divina. I was fishing around in my archives for inspiration, and just decided to post this one in its entirety.)

“Let it go” is a phrase predicated on the assumption that whatever-it-is actually is willing to leave, and is merely waiting on your permission to be gone from your life.

I can think of many things that keep on turning up over and over, and which simply scoff at each and every one of your attempts to “let them go.”

They are like your little sister poking you in the back seat of the car when you were a child.

They are the guy in the meeting who keeps clicking his pen.

In the case of events like rush hour, they re-annoy you every single day, without fail.

In the case of the death of a loved one, they are tidal waves that crash through your joy; your confidence; your peace of mind.

In the case of some chronic and painful condition, they are a corrosion that assails your health and well-being every waking moment.

In the case of some dreadful shared disaster, they rack up one dire grief after another, until all your nerve-endings are numb.

In the case of some unavoidable injustice, they clutch the base of your moral windpipe with the sweaty and gleeful grip of a spoiled toddler insisting on a piggy-back ride.

In the case of well-intentioned friends, they roll their eyes and imply that you are being intransigent and are willfully wallowing in your own misery if you can’t bring yourself to make light of your woes. “Let it go!” they say, smugly certain that they understand your problems, never doubting the wisdom of their advice.

In the attempt to give these well-intentioned folks the benefit of every doubt, I have tried to parse out the meaning behind that greasy, glutinous phrase. I think what they mean to say is that fretting about it won’t help. They mean to say that things which are out of our control will pay no mind to our opinions. They mean to say that our distress distresses them, and they wish for us to feel better for the sake of their own comfort. They mean to say that no-one likes a complainer. They mean to say that “if wishes were fishes, we’d all cast nets.” (Personally, I would prefer that they say that, than to tell me to “Let it go.”)

Let me propose an alternative, which to my mind is much more subtly apt: “Let It Be.” It has a nicely dual meaning.

One interpretation would be quite literal: Let ‘it’ exist. Respect it by conceding that it’s real, and is present in your life. In other words, admit that whatever ‘it’ is, it does not care about your distress, and will make no adjustments for your comfort, but has an existence independent of you regardless of your needs and wishes.

The other interpretation, which complements the first, is the colloquial meaning, to ‘let it alone.’ My grandmother used to tell me, “Leave it be.” Quit pestering it. Cease your involvement with it. Practice detachment. Ask yourself if it’s possible to decline to have a relationship with it. You be over here, and let ‘it’ be over there.

In any case, I strongly believe that one should at all costs avoid giving vapid, trite advice to one’s friends.