The Art of Letting Go / by Lauren Rascoe

Photo Credit: Gingerkat Photography

Photo Credit: Gingerkat Photography

So a little while ago I was at work; thinking. Letting my mind wander across things that had nothing to do with my job or whatever task I was supposed to be doing at the time. When all of a sudden a vibe hit me. I began to reminisce on the ways that I got over different situations and how I was able to be in this place where now I don’t settle for being anybody’s tool, b****, or halfway lover, let alone their secret. You either love me or you don’t; you’re either with me or you’re not. The you may not like me, but you’re gonna respect me… I don’t play that in between and I don’t make room for gray areas in that kind of thing anymore. Keeps me from playing tricks on my heart, you know?

Anyway, as I was thinking — the imagery that flooded my brain brought me to the time I fainted at a SZA concert. That feeling… (The one before I regained consciousness and embarrassment swept me.) The feeling I had trying to regain control of my body until… I couldn’t anymore; so I just let go. Yea, it was scary af at the time, but in this moment of reminiscence.. it painted a beautiful picture for me. For my journeys.. so I started writing about it. And I wasn’t sure if I was going to share this piece with the world or wait for the right moment to perform it, but either way… it’s a really good piece. And you should read it.

Maybe, one day you’ll be able to hear these words cascade from my lips, but until then… I’ve left this here for your reading pleasures and I hope you enjoy.

“The Art of Letting Go.

I remember taking my last breath. It seemed like I held it forever. Waiting for the tide to turn in my favor, but I never once got that satisfaction, because my soul fainted before I could even see the change. I remember staggering; trying to get my feet to find their placement but my legs couldn’t bear the weight of me. My energy escaped me so quickly I don’t even remember the fall. It was like I was dreaming in an ambient space, that I couldn’t even conjure up a single thought that correlated with logic. I felt like I was in this stage for months. Trying to make sense of something that was so simple, the truth made my mind go into overdrive trying to make it satiable and digestible for my heart. I was at a loss for words. So smitten by an idea that I entertained the pain just so I could feel something. I became an addict to how it all drained me. Like for a while I felt in love with the misery that came with your company, because for once I didn’t feel alone. I was so high and grateful the clouds made space for me in the thinning air. Little did I know the further up I went, the less oxygen I would have to breathe. Just like the air — I was disappearing, but I didn’t mind it. I thought the closer I could get to core of your sun the warmer I’d feel in your atmosphere. That was stupid. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s freezing in outer space? In his world you don’t have a real place? And out there, you’ll be just another star stuck in gaze trying to avoid the meteors that will pass you by because continuing to try to travel safely through his corridors to uncover the gems that may be discovered in his soul is like dancing on a field of landmines. But I was willing to risk it. And I did. As minutes turned into hours, hours into days, days into months and then years until I finally came to the epiphany I was drowning in my own tears, again. The high started to fade. And as you know ups must come down. So down I came crashing. Smashing into every level driving me further and further into myself. I constructed walls out of my debris. Hoping that in my broken pieces I could piece together happy. And I did… eventually; by perusing over the mess of me, I created a masterpiece — still… a work in progress, paradoxically. At rock bottom, I woke up, with epiphany standing over me and no idea how long I’d been out. From there… I had no other direction to go but up. So I stood in consciousness, letting life blow its wind back into me; spreading my wings and causing me to take flight, leaving behind what may try to unravel me in spite. You know, love unrequited is one helluva drug and quite too expensive to overdraft on. And quite frankly, I have no reason to go back again. So I’m not.

- An original piece by @laurenrascoe

If you made it all the way down to the bottom of this. Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts!