Letting Go
“What do women hold? The home and the family. And the children and the food. The friendships. The work. The work of the world. And the work of being human. The memories. And the troubles. And the sorrows and the triumphs. And the love.”
If you are on Instagram or TikTok you have probably heard Maira Kalman’s voice reading from her art and poetry book, Women Holding Things (the video is linked at the end of this post). On her website, Kalman describes the book as “a love song to women and at times everyone (as exhausted as we all are from holding everything); it was born from a little booklet made during the pandemic and then expanded upon with 86 paintings, ruminations, and digressions, of course.” [Note: On her website, this is written as a poem, of course– you should see it. The art is beautiful.]
I don’t see the TikToks as frequently as I did last winter, when Kalman’s question, “What do women hold?” made me think of what my own hands had held and not held in my lifetime, literally and metaphorically. As I round out my seventh decade on the planet, I think of the times I held bandaids to fasten on skinned knees, ribbons to retie loose ponytails, and bananas and pudding cups to open during my decades as a teacher. These hands held boys’ ties that needed straightening at school music concerts and girls’ hands to steady them as they buckled patent leather shoes. These hands of an English teacher held chalk that wrote miles and miles of sentences on real slate chalkboards and held books, turning thousands of pages as I read aloud to hundreds of eager listeners. But I never held my own children – it just wasn’t in the cards. And I can let that go.
So in June when Helen from Ageless Possibilities wrote a beautiful post called Old Hands Hold Memories, I was reminded of the sound of Kalman’s voice, once again. Her blog is a true companion in this bittersweet aging journey so many of us share, and in this post she waxes beautifully and evocatively on what her own hands have held. “Marvels,” she calls them. But this time, I was able to think differently as I read her list. I started to make my own mental list of the things I no longer want to hold – I started to think about the things that I can finally let go of in The Precious Days I’m living now.
And who better than the 70 year old writer, Anne Lamott, to put the holding, the letting go, and the gratitude for ALL of it in perspective. In her recent opinion piece in the Washington Post entitled “Gentle is the joy that comes with age,” she discusses the freedoms, the gifts, and the great sense of letting go that come with this “time of life.” As she ages, Lamott has noticed that “to a great degree, in older age, ambition falls away. Such a relief. Appreciation and surprise bloom many mornings: Yay — I like it here.”
I also have found that by letting some things go (which is by no means easy), I like it more here, too – a lot more than I thought I would. That feeling of “appreciation and surprise” is right there to fill the dreaded voids when you no longer define your purpose by your career.
And as Kalman acknowledges on her website, the things we hold can make us weary. So I made a preliminary list of what I can let go of now, things I no longer need to “hold.” As I jotted down some notes about each one, I found myself being appreciative of the ways those things helped to make me the person I am now. That feels freeing.
Here are just a few things I came up with that I’m letting go:
Having to say or contribute something “important” or “meaningful.” What a gift it is to finally just observe and listen.
Taking on other people’s problems and drama…gosh, what a relief to let go of that. No more workplace drama and far less family drama (we’re all old). Not taking on other people's “stuff” is a great liberator.
Being “really good” at whatever I do. Being an overachiever was exhausting, and before I would let myself enjoy any success, I’d be off to jump the next hurdle. It’s not easy getting completely comfortable with accepting some things as “good enough,” but I’m giving it a try.
Waiting for my “real life” to begin. That was a game I played with myself for too many years. It was never the right time for doing the things I felt really passionate about, I had to wait until this or that came first. Well, no more. I spent a lot of decades doing that, and I have very few left. NOW is the right time.
Stressing over EVERYTHING – the big stuff, the small stuff–I worried about it all. When I was working and younger, stress motivated me, and I think I actually liked it. But at this age, I know how bad stress is for my brain and my overall health. I like to think I am replacing my stress with excitement and anticipation of how I get to spend my days.
And finally, I am letting go of being so concerned about how I look to the outside world. I used to tell my teacher friends that I wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of Birkenstocks. This year plantar fasciitis said, “Hold my beer.” I no longer cry over a bad haircut, and I don’t freak out if I can’t find the right earrings, necklace, or bracelet. Lamott, again, says it best: “I think a lot less about what other people think of me. Sure, I want to look good, and be charming. But it doesn’t mean that much in the bigger scheme of things. When I’m home alone, or with my husband or son, best friends, reading my book, watching TV, eating my snacks, being kind of a slob, who cares? I’ve arrived.”
God willing, I will continue to be able “to hold” many things that remind me of the past, excite me about the future, and fill my precious days with “appreciation and surprise.” And though my brief list is nowhere near complete, these things that I am letting go of after holding onto them for so many years, well, they’re “marvels,” too, in their own way. They are not regrets, they may have served a purpose in their time. They aren’t relinquishments because I “can’t cut it” as I age. Quite simply, it’s just time. I’ve done the thing, I’ve paid my dues, and like Anne Lamott, “I’ve arrived.”
What are you ready to let go? Let me know in the Comments.
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