Today was the day that I had to let go of our little black dog. He was probably nearly fourteen years old, and he was full of arthritis, in pain and unable to get himself up anymore without assistance. I hope I didn't wait too long. It's a hard decision to make, but I tried to do it responsibly. He passed away at the vet around 4pm today, with me by his side.
Letting go. Letting go.
Also, my dad emailed me again today. He actually sounded more rational than he has in a long time. So I decided to respond. I hope it wasn't a mistake.
Letting go, letting go. I've let go of so much with him already. One last time. Last time.
Letting go of clinging to money has meant that I decided to pay for a training gym. I go three times a week for semi-private training and I've lost nearly 10 pounds since December 31.
Letting go of clinging to money has also meant that I got my house painted, which it has needed for years. It looks beautiful and clean and fresh.
Letting go. Letting go.
Letting go has meant that I'm accepting the end of my marriage and I've been dating.
Letting go has meant having an open mind about who might be a good partner for me. I'm trying to get past my tendency to be attracted to brilliant narcissists--a product of growing up with brilliant narcissists.
The thing I will not let go of is my right to have boundaries and the right to take responsibility for myself and my choices and not accept responsibility for other adults and their choices. Letting go of the need for people to be other than they are and letting go of the notions that I can change anyone and that I need to keep unhealthy people in my life.
Letting go. Letting go. There is freedom in it, as well as grief.
I'm trying.
No mud, no lotus.
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