Letting Go
When I get relaxed my guard comes down and I make small mistakes. For the life of me, I can not recall a word, a name of someone, a place, or a word best describing a quality or condition. I know what happens, why information slips my mind and it is because there is a gap between the inner guard and what it is guarding. My task — me as the witness — the one who noticed the problem between two aspects of me, realizes they will never resolving anything. Their relationship, the critic and the critiqued, is in the way and I must find a way to unite them.
If I demonstrated an understanding of each and recognized their valuable service in my life, this may allow a brief moment from the roles of adventurous kid and over controlling parent to hear what I have to say. The kid is angry and the guard exhausted from a poorly scripted dynamic and long have I prepared for this opportunity. Where shall I start?
The kid has gained confidence in himself and trust in me. The guard no longer works 24-hour shifts and occasionally cannot be found. The guards’ exit allows me to spend time with my youthful aspect. In short order, I discovered that he worries about stuttering and being dyslexic. I understand why he feels that way and I see his relief when I explain that he is still feeling the impact of stuttering but that has long since ended and the other is unnoticeable. He looks at me, possibly trusting for the first time.
The kid acts spontaneously and feels joy. He also gets sensitive and hides. The guard is willing and feels his retirement is long overdue. Neither of these personalities is lost to me, more specifically though, both of these personalities are now aspects of the one made more complete. I have an insight into why I experience instant or delayed recall. The delayed recall is a barometer for discomfort.
The witness — the evolved sense of me must let go of old labels and allow synchrony. Separation leads to disintegration whereas integration allows for expansion of possibilities within and without in my life.
