Holding On, Letting Go, and Awakening

My Tarot card of the day was number 20 in the Major Arcana:  Judgment--Awakening as it is shown in my new favorite deck, The Gaian Tarot, by Joanna Powell Colbert.  She writes that this card is about awareness of a shift in consciousness—an opening up to a life of the spirit.  In discussing the shadow side of the card, she talks about how difficult it can be to release our attachment to old ways of doing things, old habits, and old beliefs, even when these ways no longer serve us and indeed are perceived as negative.

I’ve been in a period of Awakening for quite a while now—opening up to a life of the spirit in a multitude of ever deepening ways. And yet, I am also aware of the difficulty of letting go of some of my old habits—things I know I need to release, and yet somehow always seem to fall back upon in times of stress or distress. I am sometimes amazed at the tenacity with which the vestigial remnants of my old self can fight for what comforts it, despite the many efforts my awakening self makes to shift those patterns.

The last 48 hours have been extremely windy—gusts up to 50 mph where we live. I’ve spent much of today upstairs in the studio, weaving and listening to the wind howl through the trees and make the wind chimes dance. From time to time I’ve gone to one of the windows to watch the trees swaying in the wind. From the east window, I can see the bare branches of a lovely oak tree, which has been doing its share of dancing. My attention has focused on one branch—one broken branch about at eye level—swinging and swaying in the repeated gusts of winds.     

           

This branch was broken during the unusual Samhain snow storm we had this year.  It is visible from the ground, but not reachable with our tallest ladder.  It will have to be brought down as it was broken, by the efforts of Mother Nature.  I have been expecting this to happen all afternoon.

As I have studied this swinging branch, I have come to realize that even though it is broken, it is not likely to fall soon.  The branch is perhaps three inches in diameter.  The top half is broken, and the rest is bent, which is why it hangs down and swings.  But the bottom half is not broken—merely bent with the weight of the branch.  It is still pretty firmly attached to the unbroken part of itself and likely to remain so until Time and Mother Nature slowly dry out the green wood and break the connecting pieces bit by bit.  .

This broken branch no longer serves the mother tree.  Although it may produce a few new leaves when spring comes, it is unlikely to flower or produce fruit.  And yet, it is still firmly connected—still receiving energy from the mother tree, who is not quite ready to let go of this broken branch.

I find this to be an interesting metaphor for the process of releasing and letting go of old patterns and beliefs.  Sometimes in ritual, or therapy, or perhaps both, we identify something that no longer serves our authentic selves and make a determination to release it.  I think ritual and therapy are both important tools in this process.  However, it is probably unrealistic to expect to immediately and completely let go of something just because you say you want to, or have, especially when you are discussing a habit that has been forming for decades or more.

My personal experience is that it takes a while to fully release something I truly wish to let go.  I may break the branch, but parts of my subconscious will continue to send energy to that broken branch.  Vigilance and diligence are required to gradually reduce and eliminate the energy sources of which I am only dimly aware at first.  Slowly, over time—it may take more than a season—the old habit or broken branch will completely dry up and then fall away. 

Observations today have convinced me that the broken branch on my oak tree will likely be there this time next year.  By then, perhaps, it will have lost enough energy sources for its connections to the mother tree to finally be broken. 

I’m taking a lesson in patience from this observation.  Broken habits and branches can ultimately be severed from the mother tree, but it is rarely a quick and immediate process.  Change—even change we devoutly desire--takes time.  That does not mean I cannot continue to grow and evolve into my new authentic self.  The continued attachment of a negative pattern or two does not stop that process.  But it does remind me to be gentle with myself when those lingering patterns rear their unwanted heads.  Change takes time and patience is a virtue.  I think I’ll have a piece of chocolate.