I’m Not Good At Letting Go.
Part 1
Sometimes letting go of anything that has or had meaning is heart-wrenching. It happens on a number of levels. People get “stuck” sometimes and if that person has a strong and loving heart—well, that person has to work twice as hard to move on. “Moving on” has been the toughest concept I’ve faced.
Professionally, when I worked as a counselor, I knew what “termination” meant. I had to experience it many times but I’ve never, ever forgotten the clients. They live in my heart and I still love them, even though I don’t see them anymore.
I was assigned to work with an adolescent girl called Arianna. It was the usual mess of her being moved around within the family because her behavior was out of control. When I met her she was a sophomore in a public high school and had been placed in foster care. I won’t even try to explain the many tragic facts of her short life. The first time I met her my heart sank and I wanted to run away. I can’t have been the only counselor who experienced that. But hey–I was a professional and I had to try. We were put in a small room near the principal’s office and somebody closed the
door.
I don’t remember what I said in the beginning of our session. But for some reason she must have asked me: “What do you see when you look at me?” Something like that. Fortunately my heart and mind work well together–most of the time, anyway. I somehow could see she was highly intelligent. Here’s my answer. While I was talking she was staring out the window.
“Who do I see? I see a lovely young girl who is very smart and very angry. That’s not a comfortable combination.”
She turned her head towards me very quickly and we looked into each other’s eyes. That was the beginning of our therapeutic relationship. Nobody had ever said that to her before, I could see plainly.
In our second and third sessions, Arianna articulated her wish to go to one of a chain of stores and I’m driving myself crazy to remember its name. It sells punk clothes, nose rings, leather pants and jackets. Some of the stuff was really very innocent. But Arianna’s foster mother would not allow it. So I said to this nice lady: Would it be OK with you if I went to (whatever it was) and reported back to you on what I saw there?” Arianna, I knew, was silently praying that her foster mother would approve and she did.
Arianna had no money so she couldn’t buy anything. She longed just to look at all this other-worldly stuff. So she wasn’t a total nerd in her own mind. It broke my heart to see how she studied the merchandise. She wanted to be cool and this was obviously what the cool kids wore.
After that, most barriers were set aside. She is a good artist and longed to have drawing materials. Somehow–I can’t remember how–I found some for her. During all of this she told me about her life. We had sessions about her mother, her father, and a beloved aunt. Arianna wanted to go and live with her. That was what happened in the end, which also marked the termination part. The aunt either didn’t want therapy for the girl or some other obstacle–I can’t remember. But I ended up saying goodbye to her on the phone. It was really awful. But she had told me that I had helped her just by validating her intelligence and talent. I just hope she’s happy somewhere out there.
Part 2
Moving on in “real life” is just as difficult. We meet people who sweep us away with their unique qualities–lovely dark brown eyes or a laid back attitude that counters your own anxieties, a fun-loving personality when you tend to be overly serious. Most of the time we can’t even enumerate what a loved person possesses that makes us want to hold on tight and never let go.
I’ve studied the works of Joseph Campbell, the world-famous mythologist, whose insights into human life and living have acted as a beacon of light in a storm of darkness. He makes things nice and simple. So in his talks about loving he tells us that the little baby cupid, flying around, shooting tiny arrows into our hearts has a much stronger,negative precursor. In Indian mythology the cupid figure is a full grown youth who has big sharp arrows in a bag on his shoulder. These arrows all have names like “death-bringer” and “torture stick.” Meaning, I guess, that when the strapping young man shoots one of his mega-arrows into you, you are injured, changed forever, damaged; the only way to reverse this process is to possess the loved one. If you cannot possess the loved one you go through life—in pain, dripping blood? How awful! But according to my mentor–Joseph Campbell–that’s the way life really is. Is he right?
Nobody’s right all the time and this is coming from an intelligent man, yes, but a man who spent his whole life in libraries and teaching at Sarah Lawrence College. I personally found this comforting because that’s the way I love. Sometimes. First love is certainly like that and had that particularly forceful effect on me. There’s a book I read called “Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Souls of Adolescent Girls.” It’s about girls like me who have loving hearts and fall too early. It’s also a diatribe which calls for a slowing down of the coming-of-age process. Big business doesn’t want that to happen!! They want girls to buy their products so they can grow up and be women. But I have only one voice and I say that I wish I had been a nerd and played sports and got dirty and hated boys…for just a little longer.
What does this have to do with letting go? It’s a very good idea to–when young– “husband” our psychic energies and if we get one of the Indian cupid’s arrows stuck into our hearts…we’ve gained the insight and guts to remove it, even if it hurts.
lgmwriting 