Category Archives: Instinct
Monday’s are easy.
Everything falls into place.
Few blanks are easy.
Some are barely discernible.
Plenty have dual identities.
How I wish life fell into boxes.
First this, then this.
Have you ever played the trust game? Where someone demonstrates trust in his or her fellows by falling backward into the waiting arms of a team of people set to catch her or him?
Whom do you trust like that?
I just played a new trust game. One partner keeps eyes closed, while the other partner leads him or her (only with words, no touching) through a crowded room, out a narrow doorway, down a crowded hall – with other people, both sighted and not-sighted, playing this game – around a bend, down another hall and into a crowded public space. On arrival, turn around and return.
Guiding, without sight. Only by faith. Faith in me. That no harm would come to her.
I am cautious, waiting for the way to clear, while talking her through the steps we will take to reach our destination. Introducing myself – did I mention that we had never met each other before? – I assure her that her safety is my utmost goal. But we will achieve our objective.
We begin. I go before her, my back to the traffic, my face to her. At first, I give instructions: turn this way, 2 steps that way, stop. But when I watch her face I see her comfort. She has placed her confidence in me, her complete trust in me. I will talk her through this.
Come toward my voice.
I will stay in front of you.
No harm will come to you.
I will clear your way.
We enter the lighted hallway through the open door of the classroom and her face beams. She pauses without moving. “That’s amazing,” she says, “I know I am in the light, even though my eyes are closed.”
I smile, but she doesn’t see it. She is waiting and listening, blind to the traffic, the congestion of people, and to the chaos of others navigating the hallway. She trusts. Fully.
So simple. Listen to My voice.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. ~ John 10:14-16
Let it go doesn’t mean letting him get away with it.
It means you get to get away from it. Away from the anger and the angst. Away from the clenching and clutching. Away from the wrenching of your gut that says, This ain’t right; something needs to change here.
Let it go means you speak your piece and take your leave.
Don’t wait around to see how he reacts. Don’t insist on meeting every objection he musters. And certainly don’t square off to put the gloves on and punch his lights out.
What is to be gained from engaging? Every time before you’ve come away bloodied and bruised. Never have you changed his way of thinking into your way of thinking. Why do you tarry? Speak in staccato. Hit your note and get off of it.
Walk away a free woman. You have brought right to light. Let it do its work, and you go do yours. Go do what you came for. Which isn’t to change him. It’s to change the world. One voice, one word, one soul at a time.
Meet you on the road. Let’s talk about all those ideas that just came rushing into your mind because you are no longer consumed by him. by lies. by fear. That’s freedom. Not just freedom from, but freedom for…action. That’s the furthest thing from subservient I know. In fact, it’s downright subversive.
Letting go doesn’t let him get away with it. It lets you get on with it.
Let us be off. There’s much work to be done.