As I've noted before, I'm not a Buddhist but I continue to learn much from the work of Pema Chödrön, an American Buddhist nun in the Tibetan tradition and a teacher based at Gampo Abbey in Nova Scotia. [1] A corollary to Chödrön's encouragement to practice patience is to let go:
Whenever there is pain of any kind--the pain of aggression, grieving, loss, irritation, resentment, jealousy, indigestion, physical pain--if you really look into that, you can find out for yourself that behind the pain there is always something we are attached to. There is always something we're holding on to... After a while it seems like almost every moment of your life you're there, at a point where you realize you actually have a choice. You have a choice whether to open or close, whether to hold on or let go, whether to harden or soften. [2]
I'm reminded of all that I hold onto past the point of usefulness: certain ways of doing things, beliefs about myself and others, my perspective on the world. And it is liberating when I'm able to let go and open up to alternatives, but that can be surprisingly difficult--which is why patience is so important:
It requires enormous patience even to be curious enough to look, to investigate. And then when you realize you have a choice, and that there’s actually something there that you’re attached to, it requires great patience to keep going into it. Because you will want to go into denial, to shut down. You’re going to say to yourself, "I don't want to see this." You'll be afraid, because even if you're starting to get close to it, the thought of letting go is usually very frightening. You may feel that you're going to die, or that something is going to die. And you will be right. If you let go, something will die. But it's something that needs to die and you will benefit greatly from its death. [emphasis mine]
I find this one of the most powerful concepts in Chödrön's work, perhaps because I hear an echo of William Bridges' perspective on the organic nature of transitions: "The process of transformation is essentially a death and rebirth process rather than one of mechanical modification." [3] We typically fear death, of course, an understandable and necessary response that obviously helps to sustain life. And yet when we allow our fear of death to compel us to hold on, we block the process of useful and healthy change. But the act of letting go need not always involve such weighty matters, and again, Chödrön reminds us, we have a choice:
On the other hand, sometimes it's easy to let go. If you make this journey of looking to see if there's something you’re holding on to, often it's going to be just a little thing. Once when I was stuck with something huge, Trungpa Rinpoche gave me some advice. He said, "It's too big; you can't let go of it yet, so practice with the little ones. Just start noticing all the little ways you hold when it’s actually pretty easy and just get the hang of letting go." That was extremely good advice. You don't have to do the big one, because usually you can't. It's too threatening. It may even be too harsh to let go right then and there, on the spot. But even with small things, you may--perhaps just intellectually--begin to see that letting go can bring a sense of enormous relief, relaxation and connection with the softness and tenderness of the genuine heart. True joy comes from that.
Thanks to Johnnie Moore and Chris Corrigan.
Footnotes
[2] This passage and the others cited are from The Answer to Anger and Aggression is Patience (Pema Chödrön, Lion's Roar, March 2005)
[3] William Bridges on Transitions
Updated May 2021.
Photo by Iain Merchant.