Letting It Go

Sebastopol flowers

I was on a walk this morning when I realized I'd forgotten my hat. The bald spot on my head needs protection. But I didn't want to go back to the house. I felt like moving forward.

The sun was bright, the Sebastopol sky brilliant blue. I decided to listen to my feelings. Going back felt like pushing against the tide. Going forward felt like fun. I figured I could find plenty of shade on my path--and, when needed, I'd cover my bare spot with my hand.

Instead of fretting about a sunburn; instead of wondering if I should have gone back; instead of beating myself up for forgetting my hat; instead of worrying about the shade/hand equation or inconvenience ... I let it go.

Consciously, deliberately I lined up with my choice to keep walking.

I breathed deeply. I thought about how a little bit of sun energy on my head is good. I felt my body from the inside-out and thanked it for being such a powerful healing machine. I thanked my legs for ambulating, and my heart and lungs for effortlessly doing their jobs.

I looked out at the beauty of the day. So much green and blue! A hummingbird. A cat in a window. Dahlias and daisies and funky art in people's yards.

A car approached. It was our friend Lee with my be-hatted husband, Dave, in the passenger seat. They pulled over. I asked Dave if I could borrow his hat. He handed it over.

It may be a little thing, but it seemed I was gifted this hat out of the blue. Once I let go and filled myself with appreciation and flow, the gift appeared.

It's beautiful to know how to line up with my decisions. I love trusting my intuition.

Maybe it's about ungripping. Maybe it's about being where--and who--I truly am.

Maybe doing this regularly with the small things makes it possible to do it with the big things, when they come.