Letting Go

let goI’m back to my blog, finally. It’s taken me a bit after the death of my father (here is a nice obit). I am better now, more rested, and more at ease with my emotions.

It took two things.

Over the past month I have journaled extensively about the experience, and, lo, a short prose poem that poured out of me one morning was accepted last Friday for publication in June. More about that later when I get formal notification, but I’m very excited this one got picked up.

Also, I went to see my chiropractor and acupuncturist last week. I’ve written about Daniel before; for me he is a miracle worker. Anyway, I told him about my dad’s death and he agreed that losing parents is a hard marker in life. We feel older and more mortal, the new gatekeepers of death. I expressed my anguish over the experience and he looked me straight in the eye and asked, “Do you want to let go?”

God, yes!

Then he touched a finger into outer aspect of my lower bicep, about four inches above my elbow, and said, “This is the point of letting go.” I lay on his chiropractic table, and after he finished adjusting my neck and shoulder, he needled me in that very spot (along with several other sites).  I rested there for maybe 45 minutes with those fine needles wobbling with any movement, but I felt at ease for the first time in months.

The relief was almost instantaneous. When I got up I was aware that I could think about the issues surrounding my father’s death and no longer become overwhelmed by emotions, and I can now let feelings come and go like we breathe, effortlessly and without clinging to good feelings or bad. I needed so badly to let go, but I was grateful that he asked if I was ready.

I have been fortunate to have Daniel in my life, but as my daughter said, “Don’t you think those people appear in your life when and where you need them?” Could be. I used to have a wonderful massage therapist back in Oregon when I was going through a lot of stress about 25 years ago.

To augment the acupuncture I have continued to put finger pressure on those points above my elbow, and they are tender to touch. How interesting is our body and our reactions to stress. How amazing that we can heal ourselves without drugs or psychotherapy. Our bodies want to be well; we just have to give them a chance.

I have also been listening to a wonderful meditation from Meditation Oasis podcasts called, not surprisingly, letting go. Those tapes are wonderful and very restorative. They also have ones for stimulating creativity, grounding, and many others. Love them.

  10 comments for “Letting Go

  1. 29/05/2012 at 7:23 pm

    Thanks, Karna. Nice to see you dropping by. I’ll definitely be blogging about it when it goes “live” (sounds like it will be the end of June). I might join you in your six-word summer project. I’ll have to sharpen my pencil… and mind!

  2. 29/05/2012 at 6:40 pm

    Glad you’re feeling better, Sarah. Can’t wait to read your prose poem!

  3. 28/05/2012 at 6:28 am

    Hi Sarah. I wish there were a Daniel in this neck of the woods. I will check out the podcasts. Thanks for the tip.

    Glad you’re getting help in letting go.

    • 28/05/2012 at 3:24 pm

      Hi Myra. Thanks for stopping by and you DO have someone in your neck of the woods. Daniel is right there in Los Yoses, not far from the San Pedro Mall circle. He is Canadian, so speaks English, but has lived in Cr for 30 years, so speaks Spanish like a Tico. Let me know if you want his contact information. He is very, very good! The podcasts are quite good, also. My daughter recommended them to me. The voice (Mary Maddox) is not too intrusive, and I find them very centering.

  4. 28/05/2012 at 5:48 am

    Congratulations on the writing acceptance, as well as having someone to support you in your grief.

    • 28/05/2012 at 3:19 pm

      Hi, Pam! So nice (and appropriate) of you to drop by for this particular post. Thanks for the pre-celebratory acceptance of the prose poem, as well. There is plenty more material on this subject for, at least, another essay. Maybe two. And, boy do I have a story to tell you, the Death Writer. I’ll post it on my blog unless my critique group thinks I should sub it somewhere ‘literary.’ It has to do with death, cats, and old wives’ tales…. keeping you in suspense!

  5. 28/05/2012 at 3:39 am

    Daniel sounds like a miracle worker. Glad you’re recovering.

    • 28/05/2012 at 3:15 pm

      Thanks for dropping by, Liz. Yes, he is a miracle worker and it’s good to have one of those one your side when times are tough.

  6. 28/05/2012 at 12:51 am

    I’m glad you’re back, Sarah, and that you’re healing and writing again. The loss of a parent is transformative. Your father sounds like he moved people with his irascible, wonderful liberal voice. Unforgettable.

    • 28/05/2012 at 3:14 pm

      Thanks for the welcome back, Beth, and you are so right about death of parents being transformative. Writing sure helps. And, yes, my father will be missed. We could use a few of him running for the Senate and the House right now. Democrats from the ‘democratic wing’ of the Democratic Party, as Howard Dean likes to say.

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