Simple, but hard.

It starts when we are young: growing out of your favorite pair of pink Chuck Taylor Allstar high tops. Flushing your first gold fish that you properly named, loved and cared so much for all three days of its life. Letting go. The process remains the same as we get older; it is the ideas, relationships, and things we attach to the act that changes. Letting go- simple, but hard.

I've had to learn and accept a lot about letting go in a short 23 (flirting with 24) years. Both of my parents are alcoholics (one early in recovery). Living with and through this has taught me the biggest lessons of surrender. I've had to learn to let go of wanting and thinking I have the ability to change someone. Anger. Resentment. Expectations. Ideas and assumptions about perfection. And fear of the future. And just because I let go once, dosent mean its gone for good. I can also be REALLY good at holding onto things. I find myself falling back into old patterns, thoughts, and feelings that are comforatable, but no longer serve me. And it becomes a lot harder than just flushing them down the toilet like the goldfish. The action of letting go is still just as simple, it's the acceptance of change and taking action that's hard.

Letting go is like learning how to swim. We dip our toes in, knowing the potential to do something big and new exists. Then work our way down the steps and onto the wall. Eventually taking a few paddles away from the wall, but at first scrambling right back to that safety net and support. Doggie paddle- simple, but hard. The familiar. But once we have made it far enough away from the wall, swimming towards the deep end with the big kids, there's no turning back. Letting go of the familiar, heading into the unknown. And from there the possibilities are endless. You could be the next Michael phelps for all you know (not me, I'm a horrible swimmer, more of a sinker- but you get the idea).

There have been times in my life, especially in the past few months that I have wanted more than ever to cling to the wall, hold on for dear life like a three year old with an ice cream cone. Ive wanted to close my eyes and wish my way back into "normal", click my heels together three times and be back in a place called "home". Dorthy did it, why can't I? But that clinging is not reality. Surrendering to what is actually going on, and moving away from the familiar is.

I've made my paddles away from the wall and have my eyes set on the deep end. This next adventure I will let go of so many things familiar: hot showers, my own bed, things starting with an i (phone, pad, pod), talking to my family every day, familiar faces, self doubt, blonde hair (its true im going burnette), and most importantly the fear of the unknown. This trip is my leap off the diving board. Letting go and leaving behind anything to hold me back so I can open up and create space for recieving and experiencing something entirely unfamiliar and extraordinary.

Letting go is not giving up, it's opening up. Surrendering is not a defeat, it's a victory with the prize of open space for something new. And that space is where you find your stripes.