It shouldn’t take much to tell your fingers to release. I practice often. I imagine that my brain has magical powers and if I stare long enough at these fingers, they will let go. My concentration and sheer determination is remarkable, but it does not work. There they sit, clenched, veins pulsing…they will not budge.
I’m trying too hard, I’m making the simplest of gestures…large. I am giving them the power. Let it go, let it be. These are no longer questions. Here, I find that breath again. The cleansing kind, the kind that releases.
I always thought the moment after I let go, would be a mad panic. It isn’t. It feels quiet. I’m more humming-bird, dancing lightly on the wind, then a large flailing body crashing to the ground. The tight rope held the pain…charged with electric currents. The fall frees the wind…and I sway silently.