A few weeks ago I was driving to my monthly women’s mastermind gathering. There are four of us and each month we take a turn hosting our circle in our homes. This month Monica hosted.

I often listen to a local radio station in the car that plays what is often referred to as “oldies but goodies.” Sometimes this makes me chuckle because the oldies I listen to are from the 70s. So does that mean I’m old? Or better yet, perhaps it just means I’m a goodie since I’ve been around a while now.

I’ve heard this song, dare I say, thousands of times. But I never heard it in the way I did this day. I was really struck by the one line in the song, which is also the title. It’s by Charlene and it’s called, I’ve Never Been to Me. You can listen to the song and find the lyrics here if you wish.

The thing about the song is that it talks about how we think things outside us, people and places, or material things, are better. That what we have within the context of our own lives is somehow not enough.

We search high and low for what we think is paradise and as Charlene sings, I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me.

I’m often moved to tears when something lands as truth in my heart, besides being sensitive by nature. It brought me back to revisiting the darkness and emotional pain I experienced last winter and how I felt trapped and as if life was passing me by.

For years before this I was content with the simple pleasures of life and seemed to take more in stride, but I came to a point of not being able to cope. There was a blessing within it all as I learned to move inward and go to the core of what was causing me so much angst.

Through the wisdom of animals and oracles, I faced my inner child who felt wounded. Hearing this song it resonated because how often we think our challenges are outside of us and we try to mask them with other things. Though I recognize that we aren’t always consciously aware of this.

But feeling angst, pain, less than, or unworthiness is an opportunity to explore what that is about and peel away the layers. Having taken the time to be with me, to see all the many parts of me, the sad, the scared, the wounded, the lonely, helped me to appreciate and value even more the parts of me that did all she could to protect that little girl from further hurt and pain.

And this brought me back to me. Nothing in the outside materialistic world could have done that for me. 

Arriving at Monica’s house I shared with the group how I’d really been moved by the song I heard. Monica brought it up on her cell phone and we listened to it. She then had copies of a poem she’d found a few days earlier that she wanted to share with us. We each took a turn and read following the flow. 

How often synchronicity is at play in our lives and how we are being supported if we are aware. And this poem by Rev. Safire Rose was just that, and I just had to share with you:

She Let Go

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of fear. She let go of judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a book on how to let go…She didn’t search the scriptures.

She just let go. She let go of all the memories that held her back. She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go, she didn’t journal about it. She didn’t write the projected date in her day-timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.

She just let go. She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn’t call the prayer line. She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing.

Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go. There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. It was what it was, and it is just that. In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.

XO,

Barbara

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