I’d just quit my job at the meat packers, and was off to college in a couple days. My sister and I were in the car on the way to the city for some shopping. Suddenly I sat up straight. “I forgot to pack the pork chops”. I sat, suspended like that for a moment, and then said “Well, I guess that’s not my problem any more.”
Sometimes, it’s time to let it go.
You know how when you’re writing a college paper, you do your research, write your best logic, edit, check and recheck, and then you print it off? Don’t you always see a mistake as soon as you’re carrying it to hand it in? There’s always something, but the paper is due. You’ve got to let it go, let it fall into the mail slot. It’s the prof’s problem now.
I lost my job in April. And I tell you, I hashed and rehashed every conversation, every mistake–what did I do wrong? How could things have gone so badly? I wasted so much emotional energy on one lousy job I didn’t even have any more.
I’ve got to let it go. It’s holding me back.
I’ve come to the end of a theological debate, carried on over the course of three weeks. I began it out of concern for a colleague who claimed the same faith as I, but was teaching beliefs incompatible with our faith as I know it. I’d hoped, at least, that he would question his beliefs. But both of us are equally convinced of our rightness and, I think, a little sick of each other. So, I believe it’s time to quit.
I spent the last 24 hours decided what my final statement would be. I have so much I’d still like to say, so much to question. Well, I can’t do it all. It’s time to let it go.
I am not the end all, be all of the universe. I cannot carry the weight of every decision, every bad thing that has happened, and everyone else’s problems. I cannot pack all the pork chops. I’ve done what I can.
It’s time to let it go.
“One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach” -Anne Spencer.