"And Finally We Let It Go"
by Rev. Kimi Riegel
November 16, 2003

Reading : by Jane Rzepka

The Idiocy of Flight

A well-known poem by Robert Graves speaks of butterflies -- their "honest idiocy of flight," "lurching here and there by guess and God and hope and hopelessness." Any number of quotations sound this way, and so, I think do we. But privately.

Publicly we speak the civilized language of human beings who have things under control. No idiocy, no lurching. The world sees that we function well and happily. Other people believe it, and even we begin to believe it. Life moves forward as always.

Privately, though, we experience long stretches of turbulence and the occasional sudden downdraft. So many in our church feel alone when things go poorly at home, when they feel their age (whatever it is), or when they grieve. So many feel alone in their money worries or career problems. Awful life situations seem to set us apart from one another.

Normal lives include these awful parts. They don't always show from the outside; it's hard to believe any other folks at coffee hour are feeling the same kinds of screaming pain, or emptiness, or entrapment, or panic, or precariousness, or low-grade worry. Lives, even lives well lived, don't stay in place for long -- at least that's how it seems from the peculiar vantage point of the minister's study.

It's a help I think, to accept "the idiocy of flight," the butterfly flight-pattern so firmly implanted in the human mind and heart. Let the lurching, then, be no surprise, and know we're all up there flying every which way, together.

Sermon: “And Finally We Let It Go”

Last year I began a sermon series on what I called the four great truths of life, the four great lessons, or four rules for living. I had come upon them at a Buddhism and therapy conference and have carried them into every area of my life. They are: show-up, pay attention, speak the truth and let go of the outcome. In parenting I try to remember to show-up, pay attention, speak the truth and let go of the out come. As a life partner I try to show-up, pay attention, speak the truth and let go of the outcome. And as a minister I strive each day to become better at showing up, paying attention, speaking the truth and letting go of the outcome. Each of the three earlier sermons are still posted on our web site or you can call the office and get a copy if you are interested in what has come before. Today is number four. Some of you are saying – well, finally, since I began last winter. And to you I say, and have said probably enough times, hey let it go. But now its time for me to let it go – stop holding on to the sermon and let it go. Let it be a finished series and move on to the next one. Even letting go of an idea or a sermon is hard. Until the sermon is written it has unlimited potential but once it’s out there, it’s done, not to be touched again, its potential becomes reality and -- as is so often the case with most things -- its reality will never match the potential. So I must let it go and let it be what it will be: a sermon on letting go.

 Letting go of anything or anyone is hard because it reminds us of the ultimate letting go of death. This week a parishioner died. I came to her bedside on Tuesday as she struggled to get each breath, unable to hear well or see much, basically unresponsive as she labored to breath. For months she and I have talked about death. She didn’t want to be kept on artificially, but still letting go is hard. If letting go were easy or something we had control over, many people would choose to go long before they do. And even in those instances where we have some choice, letting go always involves some sense of the unknown and ultimately trust.

We let go of so much each day and each year of our lives. We let go of the dream of what tomorrow will be as it becomes today, a reality. As we get older we let go of the vision of doing or being something great and realize only a few people actually ever make a big splash. And even if we did become famous we would have to let go of control of our calendars and many parts of our private lives. We let go of sleep when our children are little and we let go of our children each day as they learn to walk, talk, and become part of the world outside our family. We let go of our health as each year brings more concerns and less strength. We let go of hopes and dreams, wishes and prayers as each day turns to the next. We have no control over any of these; they involve the unknown and trust.

The unknown or one might say unknowable is a part of every letting go. We do not know as we say good night to this day what tomorrow will bring. When we let someone new take over our job. When we let go of the traditional way we have done the holidays. When we let go of some of our dreams. When we quit our jobs or make any number of easily named changes there is always the element of the unknown. We don’t know whether the new person will handle things correctly. We don’t know if the holidays will have the same meaning if we change them. We don’t know what we will do after we leave our job. And of course the ultimate unknown is we don’t know what will come when we let go of life. Fear of the unknown is what keeps us on the paths we are on. Fear of the unknown is what makes letting go so difficult.

Think for a moment … what is it that you would like to let go of?

Maybe you would like to let go of perfectionism. Maybe you would finally like to stop worrying if you are going to do it perfectly and just be for a while. Of course that means facing the very real possibility that you wouldn’t be liked, that you might lose your job, or that you would discover you are really not that important, or, or, or. Letting go of perfectionism means facing some very scary unknowns.

Or may be you would like to let go of negative thoughts. We all hear them in our heads, that internal critic that says we are not good enough or smart enough or beautiful enough. Letting go of those thoughts could be very freeing. It could also mean that we might actually have to do something, face the fact that we are smart, and capable and then what? As Nelson Mandela says we are all a lot more powerful than we realize. What if we let go of being powerless?

Even letting go of negative thoughts means facing some very scary unknowns.

Or like most of us, you would like to let go of painful memories or childhood wounds. Each of us has something painful that we carry with us and some of us have excruciating memories that darken our every day. There would be the potential for so much peace if we could just let them go. But would that mean they would be forgotten, would that change who we are and how we operate in the world, would that mean that the persons involved in those painful memories would get away with it? Even letting go of the very painful parts of our lives involve the unknown.

Any letting go means facing the unknown. The best image for me when I think of this is the acrobat. They leap into space not really knowing each time what will happen. They let go of the rope and simply trust. And that is the key ingredient in learning to let go; learning to trust.

Trust to a large extent is the ground of our being. Without trust we can’t get about in the world. Erickson’s stages of man (sic) places trust as the first and most important developmental stage. Unlike Erickson I think we continually revisit these stages. While the first essential trust or mistrust in the world comes from our first care givers -- and while it is hard to undo early learned mistrust -- still with each letting go we learn a bit more about trust. Trust in ourselves that we can take the leap, make the move, do what needs doing, or say what needs to be said. Trust in others that they will come to our aid. Trust that we can go on despite our losses. Trust that the freedom we find in letting go will be a relief. Trust in the natural order of things.

We all know those people who simply trust. They go about the world expecting others to treat them well and most often they find it to be true. They go about the world generally believing that others are good and most of the time they are not disappointed. And when they are -- when someone is unkind or untrustworthy -- it hurts these trusting folks deeply. But not nearly as much as not trusting in the first place. To go through life not trusting is painful and crippling. Trust is essential for letting go, letting go is essential for growth and change. Since not changing is not an option, the best we can hope for is to learn to trust so we can learn to let go.

Angeles Arrien, in her book, The Four Fold Way, suggests that the opposite of trusting the unknown or unexpected is trying to control the uncontrollable. We can’t know the unknowable. We can’t know what will happen tomorrow and we can’t know the ultimate question of what happens after our death. We can’t control that which is not in our control but how often we try. We want to know the unknowable and control that which is beyond our reach. It is clearly an impossible task. Thus once we give up on the impossible we are left with only trust. It sounds so simplistic. Yet, when we face the fact that we have only a small amount of control and that is only over ourselves we are left with the option of trusting all the rest.

There are only two ways I know to learn trust. The first is to learn from watching the natural world, which is nothing but trust -- and secondly from practice.

I learn trust by looking at the natural world. I learn to trust because the sun comes up everyday, energy is converted into food, and life continues. I learn to trust each time I drive out into the street; I trust that others will obey the laws. I learn to trust each time I say what I think and feel and I am listened to. I learn to trust each time I am trusted. We do the world a great service by looking for opportunities to see trust and by being trustworthy ourselves. Each time we say only what we are honestly willing to do then do it, each time we are there for others, and each time we acknowledge the trust we have place in others that has been fulfilled we are building trust in the world

 So in order to build trust we must practice it ourselves. We must practice anything to learn it. We can start small, trusting that of which we are fairly certain and move into trusting each other and ourselves. When we feel the fear and the doubt we can muster the courage and act – trustingly. Musicians don’t learn to play by remembering the times they couldn’t. They learn by approaching each musical piece in parts and working up to the whole. Trusting is much like that. We find that, as we trust we are trusted. Trust is returned with trustworthiness and from that I can learn to let go. It’s like the child learning to trust his parents will return. Somewhere around six to nine months, children begin to notice when their caregivers go away. They don’t have object permanence – they believe that once the person is gone they no longer exist. Over time they learn to trust that the person will return and so they find it easier to let them go. They learn that letting go doesn’t mean giving up – over time they learn to trust.

Now here is where the whole thing begins to turn in on itself. We can let go … if we trust. We can trust … if we let go of old wounds, being certain and our fear. So with each baby step we gain more than the step. Each time we trust we let go and each time we let go we learn to trust.

Letting go is not about giving up. There is a difference. The monks who sit in temples around the world praying for peace don’t stop when the next war breaks out. There is a certain futility in their work, but they perservere. Letting go is knowing, at least for the monks, that they can only do what they can do and that is praying. They let go of the rest. They trust themselves, they trust their power and they are aware of its limits.

Part of letting go is knowing our own limits. Knowing our own limits means letting go. Emerson writes:

            There is not enough for this and that,
            Make thy option which of two;
            Leave the many and hold the few.

We can’t hold everything – something has to go. If we hold the perfectionism, the negative thoughts and the old wounds there is less room for new ideas, joy and love. We let go every day. Let us decide what we can and will hold on to and then finally be ready to let even that go. If we have remembered to show up, pay attention, and speak the truth there is nothing more for us to do but let go of the outcome. Trust. Leave the many and hold the few. Blessed be.