Post by majestyjo on Jan 9, 2018 22:28:28 GMT -5
More Language Of Letting Go
Detach in love
In the original Language of Letting Go, I told the gerbil story. It’s one of my favorite stories about letting go. Here it is again.
Many years ago, when I lived in Stillwater, Minnesota, my children wanted a pet. They wanted a puppy, but I said no. We had tried a bird, but its feathers fell off. I suggested a goldfish, but we settled on a gerbil instead.
One day, the gerbil got loose. It got out of its cage and scurried across the floor. It ran so fast that none of us could catch it. We watched as it disappeared under a crack in the wall. We stood around, wondering what to do, but there wasn’t much that could be done.
In the months that followed, the gerbil made timely appearances. It would scurry out from behind the walls, run across the room, then dart back into the walls. We’d chase it, lunging after it and screaming as we ran.
“There he is. Catch him.”
I worried about the gerbil, even when we didn’t see it. “This isn’t right,” I’d think. “I can’t have a gerbil running loose in the house. We’ve got to catch it. We’ve got to do something.”
A small animal the size of a mouse had the entire household in a tizzy.
One day, while sitting in the living room, I watched the animal scurry across the hallway. I started to lunge at it, as I usually did, then I stopped myself.
“No,” I said. “I’m all done. If that animal wants to live in the nooks and crannies of this house, I’m going to let it. I’m done worrying about it. I’m done chasing it.”
I let the gerbil run past without reacting. I felt slightly uncomfortable with my new reaction– not reacting– but I stuck to it anyway. Before long, I became downright peaceful with the situation. I had stopped fighting the gerbil. One afternoon, only weeks after I started practicing my new attitude, the gerbil ran by me, as it had so many times, and I barely glanced at it. The animal stopped in its tracks, turned around, and looked at me. I started to lunge at it. It started to run away. I relaxed.
“Fine,” I said. “Do what you want.” And I meant it.
About an hour later, the gerbil came and stood by me, and waited. I gently picked it up and placed it in its cage, where it happily reestablished its home. Don’t lunge at the gerbil. He’s already frightened, and chasing him just scares him more and makes us crazy,too.
Is there someone you’d like to get close to? Is there an irregular circumstance in your life that you can’t change? Detachment, particularly detaching in love, helps.
God, show me the power of using detachment as a tool in all my relationships.
Detach in love
In the original Language of Letting Go, I told the gerbil story. It’s one of my favorite stories about letting go. Here it is again.
Many years ago, when I lived in Stillwater, Minnesota, my children wanted a pet. They wanted a puppy, but I said no. We had tried a bird, but its feathers fell off. I suggested a goldfish, but we settled on a gerbil instead.
One day, the gerbil got loose. It got out of its cage and scurried across the floor. It ran so fast that none of us could catch it. We watched as it disappeared under a crack in the wall. We stood around, wondering what to do, but there wasn’t much that could be done.
In the months that followed, the gerbil made timely appearances. It would scurry out from behind the walls, run across the room, then dart back into the walls. We’d chase it, lunging after it and screaming as we ran.
“There he is. Catch him.”
I worried about the gerbil, even when we didn’t see it. “This isn’t right,” I’d think. “I can’t have a gerbil running loose in the house. We’ve got to catch it. We’ve got to do something.”
A small animal the size of a mouse had the entire household in a tizzy.
One day, while sitting in the living room, I watched the animal scurry across the hallway. I started to lunge at it, as I usually did, then I stopped myself.
“No,” I said. “I’m all done. If that animal wants to live in the nooks and crannies of this house, I’m going to let it. I’m done worrying about it. I’m done chasing it.”
I let the gerbil run past without reacting. I felt slightly uncomfortable with my new reaction– not reacting– but I stuck to it anyway. Before long, I became downright peaceful with the situation. I had stopped fighting the gerbil. One afternoon, only weeks after I started practicing my new attitude, the gerbil ran by me, as it had so many times, and I barely glanced at it. The animal stopped in its tracks, turned around, and looked at me. I started to lunge at it. It started to run away. I relaxed.
“Fine,” I said. “Do what you want.” And I meant it.
About an hour later, the gerbil came and stood by me, and waited. I gently picked it up and placed it in its cage, where it happily reestablished its home. Don’t lunge at the gerbil. He’s already frightened, and chasing him just scares him more and makes us crazy,too.
Is there someone you’d like to get close to? Is there an irregular circumstance in your life that you can’t change? Detachment, particularly detaching in love, helps.
God, show me the power of using detachment as a tool in all my relationships.
. I will be back looking for Lin and others.