Local DJ Jason Kendig plays an 8-hour music set on Friday night in an Oakland warehouse. Who plays for 8 hours? Who stays until 7am? Our hired car skittered back over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco as the sun pleasantly rose.
Arriving at 1am, we might leave at 2 to bed down at a reasonable hour. The sweaty and fun event feels like an old-skool rave lock-in but with an older crowd. On the dance floor, it came to me, the motto going forward:
LET IT GO
Let go of this non-stop pondering, yearning, blaming, hoping for Greg. Let go of my obsessive thoughts of an initial meeting as it will be different, unexpected, and more torn up than anticipated.
Let him go from my mind, as I am already so sad that I let him go from my life. Like a trapeze performer, he reached out and I decidedly let go. He was expecting my hand to grab him. We drift apart like astronauts.
I let go of a future together. No more dinners, trips, projects, and getting to know each other better. Let him go live by himself or with another. Let go of the past and constantly looking behind me.
I need to let go of calculation and planning. Let happen what happens when it happens. My heart aches, guides and teaches.
I let go of wanting so much from others, let go of other people’s reactions buoying or sinking me.
Let go of anxiety and job worries. Let go of the future.
Let go of identity and person. Let go of labels. Let It Go. Let It Rest. Let It Be.