Holding It Well by Letting It Go

on paper cranes and loosening my grip

I'll hold it all more loosely
And yet somehow much more dearly.

I heard these lines last week, in the song “One” by musician Ryan O’Neal of Sleeping at Last, and they stopped me in my tracks. Ryan wrote a song for each of the nine Enneagram types. (Thanks to my friend Joe for recommending this series.) I can’t speak for how well each of the other songs speaks to the different types, but “One”? Nailed it. 

After last week’s lengthy meditation on trauma-informed organizations, today’s reflection for supporting subscribers is a more personal piece. At the core, it’s about the invitation to hold things more gently in order to embrace them more fully. A paradox. It’s the work of my lifetime—maybe everyone’s lifetime, I don’t know, but certainly mine as a recovering control addict. But it’s particularly important work right now, for reasons I’ll get into in a minute. 

During the pandemic, our family enjoyed the series Long Way Up, in which actor Ewan McGregor and his buddy Charlie Boorman ride motorcycles from South America to Los Angeles. It was a great way for us to “travel” during the confinement of lockdown, but there were life lessons along the way too. During the second episode, Ewan and Charlie strike out on a gravel road between two small towns. Charlie explains the right way to approach riding on a slippery surface like this:

I was always told on this gravel to have light hands. A light grip, almost as if you could play the piano. You should be able to wiggle your fingers a little bit. Because you’ve got to let the bike move a little bit underneath you. The more you hold it, the more it fights. The bike wants to move under you, so if you’re gripping really hard, then the bike has to try and move you as well. 

I’m working to loosen my grip as I navigate some treacherous terrain. To hold things more loosely so I can experience life more wholeheartedly.