The Power of Letting Go

Layers of Release

“The soul does not grow by addition but by subtraction.” ~ Meister Eckhart

Sometimes in order to move forward, or help another move forward, we have to let go. Sometimes we gain most when we cut our losses.

I just returned from a 4,381-mile road trip from Oregon to Oklahoma and back to clean up my mom’s house and property to get it ready to go up for sale. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hoarder situation. The place was jammed with decades of accumulated stuff and for the past six years my niece, mom’s granddaughter, and her two little kids had lived with my mom. Threads of generational disfunction created a mosaic of chaos and co-dependency and the place had become rundown and downright filthy.

I wasn’t excited about the nasty clean up job, but I was looking forward to a long road trip with Olive. There’s something about trips together that deepens the bond between humans and dogs. More importantly, I was determined to close a chapter in my life. For thirty years, I had been trying to help my late sister’s two children overcome the terrible start their parents had inflicted upon them. Mom and I have done the best we could with two very damaged and difficult people and in truth, have been treated pretty poorly in the process. They are both in their thirties now. The love and compassion is still there; my willingness to be in a position of responsibility is not.

My brother and I got my mom relocated near him in Arizona months ago and I had given the niece as long as I could to find another place to live. I helped her get on low-income housing wait lists and mom gave her a big down payment on a car. Two weeks before the deadline to move out she went silent on me. I left for Oklahoma not knowing if she had moved or was dug in like a tick on a hound dog which would require starting an awful eviction process. I just kept focused on faith in positive outcomes all the way around and took off.

Wanting to get this done and behind me, I’d set my Rav hybrid up so that Livvy and I could pretty much live out of it. A thick foam mattress complete with sheets and blankets was stretched in the back, food and water on board for both of us, headlamp handy, etc. I drove nearly 700 miles a day, stopping only to use a bathroom and let Livvy burn some energy sniffing and running after sticks.

The last time I had driven this exact route was eight years earlier, almost to the day, when I made the trek to visit my nephew, my sister’s other child, midway through his lengthy prison sentence. Four years after that I was in Oklahoma again to pick him up, walk him out the prison gates, and bring him to live with me in Oregon. Our relationship has been a bumpy ride.

I arrived at my mom’s place late afternoon on the third day. My niece was gone. The house was even filthier than I’d expected. Not only was every nook and cranny in the home and outbuildings crammed with stuff, but the niece had left dirty dishes and rotting food all over the kitchen, maggot-filled pots of food on the front porch, and piles of soiled diapers and rotting food all over the garage. Two refrigerator-freezers and a deep-freeze were completely packed with food, a bunch of it rotting. The smell in the garage was genuinely gag-worthy.

The first step was to begin piling all the usable stuff out on the lawn and put out some “Yard Sale” signs. There are absolutely no recycling options in rural Oklahoma so everything I’d be throwing in the commercial dumpsters that had been delivered would be going to the landfill. That absolute disregard for Mother Earth seems to be part of the culture there and it hurt my heart. I figured it much better for people to take things than for them to get landfilled but didn’t want to take time setting up a formal yard sale. So, I did an honor-system sale, telling people, “If you like something take it. If you want to leave some money for it great, If not, no worries. Just do what feels right to you.”  I knew I would be bringing very little home with me, and was more than happy to release the excess stuff.

Over the course of the next four days, I busted my ass, hauling stuff out into the yard for the yard sale and filling two huge commercial dumpsters with stuff, garbage and foulness.

In a synchronistic, “Spirit has your back” turn of events, about a week before I’d left, an old friend with whom I’d had a falling out had contacted me. She was now living in Oklahoma City and when she learned what I was up to she made plans for her and her wife to travel down to help me. I was/am deeply appreciative. They busted their butts alongside me for two solid days, painted and hung much better yard sale signs that drove a lot of traffic, and prevented me from throwing out a few things that I probably would have regretted tossing.

My friend and I had loved each other pretty much from the get-go, but had allowed the relationship to go sideways. We had both grown and matured a lot in the many years we hadn’t seen each other and our friendship just picked back up, the past mostly released. I am learning that one of the most powerful releases is forgiving, letting go of old grievances and attachment to the past. This life is just too short to let old garbage rob us of the now. Even as I write it, feels good to be connected with her again.

I tend to be a put- your-head-down and get-er-done sort of person so I didn’t really reflect much while I was working and I was too exhausted at night to do so. Early on, I did feel sadness dealing with the piles and piles of toys and children’s clothes and old school assignments, drawings, and even a little box containing some baby teeth. It is believed my niece lost custody of both her children and they are now with their dads. And so, the chaos flows to the next generation. Hopefully, the dads are stable and loving. My heart hurts for my niece and I hope she finds a way to uplift her life.

On the final day, beyond ready to head for home, I awoke angry. I was angry at my mother for letting the place become such a nasty mess and for letting the niece run amok and leaving me to deal with it. I was mad at generations of my family. I was pissed at my sister for making such a wreck of her life and her children’s lives and irritated with my sister-in-law who promised to help but only showed up late on day three to see if we’d found her dad’s record collection. I was angry at all Oklahomans because the fireflies are gone and they don’t have any recycling. I was also angry at myself for getting into positions of responsibility for a family that hasn’t treated me very well. I was just pissed in general.

My poor friends. I showed up that morning to say good-bye and mostly just vented all that anger! They were lovely and just listened supportively. Both said they were wondering when I’d get emotional about the whole situation. After all, sometimes a good venting is a powerfully healthy form of release.

I had plenty of time to think about it all on the long, long drive home. I’m sure I was angry for reasons I don’t even fully understand and that’s OK. I don’t need to drill any further into the “why”. It’s just sloughing off like a snake shedding skin in order to grow and flex and flow.

I feel good about what I’ve done for my niece and nephew and I truly hope that those efforts, and any interactions going forward empower them to clean up their own messes and figure out better ways of doing life. I will likely never hear from my niece again and that’s OK. She too is a spiritual being having a human experience, learning and evolving as she goes along. However, you never know. One thing I’ve learned is that releasing a relationship doesn’t have to be permanent. Sometimes, it is essential to “divorce” a person for a while in order for the relationship to reform in a healthier manner.

Of all the facets of release, certainly one of the most powerful is being willing to release outdated pieces of our own identities. There’s no question part of my willingness to take responsibility for my sister’s children stemmed from love and compassion and empathy for the rough start they experienced. I feel the sadness for them in my stomach as I write. However, at a deeper level, taking such responsibility was connected to a desire to be valued by my family members; it was tied to desiring a sense of worthiness. The need for external validation is the sort of self-identity that can easily lead to co-dependence and enabling. We can shed it like a tree dropping leaves in the fall to nourish the soil beneath it, when we finally allow ourselves to feel worthy as we are for who we are, not just for what we do. Whether family members value usor not is their business, not ours.  

After driving halfway across the country, 4,381 miles, the best place I experienced was my own little home and my everyday life. What a blessing to be able to experience and express that. Two days after I got home Mom’s house sold and she should have enough money to live out the rest of her human experience. Mom’s affairs are in order and, for the first time in my adult life, I am in position where the actions of my sister’s children do not directly impact, or require action from me. Boom! Healthy release. Mission accomplished.

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Life with Livvy and Lotta Dog

If you read the piece above you know that Livvy and I just had an epic road trip together. LottaDog Freya stayed home with my life-partner John and beloved neighbors (her God parents) because she would have been too difficult on this arduous mission, not to mention that there wasn’t room for all three of us to sleep in the back of the RAV. I planned to travel long, fast and light.

By design we left on a Monday right after a three-day agility trial because I knew Livvy would be tired and better able to handle long periods of inactivity the next couple days.

She was such a trooper. She handled the long days on the road so well and then curled up and slept all night in the car with me. Jumped out in the mornings and went potty, explored and ate breakfast. She went into rest areas and navigated those scary tile floors, gaining confidence all along.

Once at my mom’s place in Oklahoma, she charmed the people going through the yard sale, stayed close to me, and rolled with it all. Many, many times, I’d put a stuffed toy out on the lawn for the yard sale and she’d bring it back in trying to get me to throw it for her or she’d run off with it, flipping and tossing all over the yard. The levity was wonderful given the nasty task of cleaning out the place. She also let me know when she needed a break or was uncomfortable with someone, and then I’d just put her in the cool car for a rest from it all.

Many evenings I took her out for the game of swim and fetch because it is one of her very favorite things. I think she is part seal.

Olive is not a certified therapy dog and actually doesn’t have the calm temperament for it, but she was certainly my therapy dog on this trip. She provided roadside assistance and entertainment, mental health support, a reminder to take a break now and then and even have a little fun along the way. Mostly, she was a loving presence and best friend and a reminder of what an awesome life we have.

Because we were driving east hour after hour, I needed to give Livvy a shade in the car. I have to say sarongs are one of the most useful and versatile garments ever created.

When we got home LottaDog Freya was beside herself both to reconnect with me and with Livvy. They very quickly commenced a joyful wrestlemania session.

Meaning no offense to any Okies out there, but given my experience it’s a place that just doesn’t feel good. Now that Livvy and I have accomplished the big “Oklahoma Clean Up” mission the only reason I can think of for returning is that every few years the AKC agility national championships are held in Oklahoma City. Ha!

Much Love,

Cylvia, Livvy and LottaDog

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