A Confession

A Mystery Which Involves Trusting Oneself

This is a post about the practice of letting go, which isn’t always so easy to grasp. Letting go is especially hard for those of us who like to be in control. But before we get to all that, I have a confession to make. It’s something I’ve felt the need to admit for some time now. I don’t know why it feels like a secret, but it’s time to get this off my chest.

I often workout to Youtube videos with Pamela Reif.

I’m not the only one. Reif has over ten-million subscribers. I started in the pandemic, and I still come back to her videos all the time. There are a few reasons why I love her.

1) She doesn’t talk in most of her videos. I like the option of being led without being managed.

2) The workouts are highly efficient, effective, and fun. You get to choose the part of the body you want to focus on. Some of them include weights, and some don’t. The videos are more difficult than any classes I’ve tried lately, and I always finish feeling strong and balanced.

3) Reif is mythically beautiful and confident, and since I watch on the television, and she doesn’t talk, and I mirror her, it kind of feels like I’m looking in a mirror as I workout. This helps me study the little things she does to align and engage, and to self-correct without judging myself.

It also helps that I now workout in my outdoor living room, with fresh air and birds chirping. It’s not quite as fun as meeting friends for a class or tennis clinic, but it’s a total pleasure.

Like when I mirror Reif in her workout videos, a similar experience occurs when I study poetry. I select a poem, or a song, and I re-rewrite the lyrics. I mirror the author as a way of embodying the words, ideas, rhythms, etc. A new dimension of a poem opens up to me when I re-write it (rather than when I only read it).

Whenever I sit with my children as they practice music, I admire the ways they study and copy musicians and composers who preceded them. As I write this, my son is in the other room practicing the double bass. I love when he starts playing a classical song the way his teacher wants him to, and then he speeds it up or pulls the song apart and just has fun with the music.

The leap between studying the greats and becoming one—seems vast—but a mystery which involves trusting in oneself. And it’s a leap one must take if she wants to move beyond the fun of karaoke, or Youtube.

Perhaps that is exactly the point: in order to succeed, on one’s own terms, one must be willing to let go of what they know, and flow or leap into the unknown.

I’ve had a recurring sensation in my life that has proceeded every successful leap I’ve made. First, I have a feeling like I’m on the bank of a river and I’m holding onto the riverbank as tightly as I can and I feel—mentally and physically—like I’m clinging but the waters are rushing around me too quickly and I sense if I stay where I am the riverbank will collapse and I will drown.

So, I let go.

Metaphorically.

I stop fighting the current and I go with it, even though I don’t know where it will lead. One would think this would feel out of control, but it doesn’t. I still have to navigate the unknown terrain, so the resulting feeling is one of heightened presence.

Every time I’ve done this in my life, it has felt like a relief, and led me somewhere interesting—sensations of surprise replace feelings of overwhelm.

I might go as far as to say that every success in my life has been a result of one of these leaps of faith. The faith is in myself, and the universe, and our relationship.

I will admit, I think I’m often complicit in creating the scenario in which the metaphorical riverbank is no longer stable. But sometimes I don’t leap because I’m ready; in other words, sometimes, I don’t let go because I want to, but rather because change is thrust upon me; sometimes the world alters and it’s time to let go—ready or not.

Regardless, of where I am in a creative process, it’s always helpful to generate endorphins. So whether it’s a walk with friends, a bike ride on a sunny morning, tennis, yoga, or a ten-minute ab workout with Pamela Reif, I make the time to start my days with movements that build strength, elevate heart, and improve agility.

I hope you’re doing what you need to do to prepare for your next leap.

If you’d like to practice the sensation of letting go, try making fists with your hands a few times, hold the grip for a breath, and then release. I’ve also included a guided meditation for paid subscribers to help you navigate with less tension and more ease.