From a Practitioner’s Perspective

by Ellen Fenner, RScP

Two things I’ve learned through experience to never attempt are taming the tresses of an overgrown bougainvillea and trying to mediate a fight between two girls over a boy. Both often result in scratches that could have been avoided by letting nature take its own course.

As I (again) foolishly attempted the former this morning, I boldly assumed that previous experience would provide the necessary wisdom to be able to avoid the pokes of the massive thorns that have previously left my arms bleeding. I was attempting to free one plant from the overreach of the other and though I was mostly successful, I have a whole new set of wounds because I waited too long to intervene.

This experience got me thinking about the above quote which I’ve seen many times in high school yearbooks, usually posted by Seniors who want to be regarded as having risen above the absurdities of teenage romance but are usually the ones who have never had a boyfriend or girlfriend and therefore have never suffered the painful endings that seem to happen frequently among teenagers.

The process of setting someone free to the care of another can be devastating because those first openings of the heart can leave us scarred and afraid to try again, so many opt not to try at all. There is profound spiritual truth in this sentiment that can only be learned through the process of letting go of people, places and things over the course of a lifetime.

We become attached to the comfort and familiarity of what we think we have ownership of. Fear of losing what we have can cause us to become protective of what we think is ours because it represents security, even if it’s holding us back.

Our inner thorns can imprison us in an effort to protect our vulnerability even as it restricts our growth and that of those around us. But as we allow ourselves to become open to change, knowing that it may require some pruning of our thorny branches or a shift in relationship, we become willing to accept more light into our experience as we realize that our protectiveness was smothering our ability to blossom and hiding the potential of what is possible for our lives.

As we become more discerning and diligent about what needs to be trimmed to allow for new growth, our lives become easier and our flowering more abundant, and we begin to attract the butterflies and other pollinators that create new life everywhere around us. New relationships form and our need to protect ourselves lessens.

Letting go of what no longer serves us may be painful at first but as we learn to embrace the power that comes with not holding on to what was never meant to be ours, we set ourselves free.

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