Hold On; Let Go Monkey!

Fagetta Bout It? Or press forward? As the year comes to a close I write my holiday letter, reflecting on the year, events and people. I notice that the world is a much faster, information filled place. I notice that I am "getting older." That means something entirely different than I always thought it did. I notice that I cherish and treasure my longest time friends more every year. I notice that I feel fine about going out in the early morning snow in my 'jama's, to feed the birds, and it's been forever since I wondered if my nose is too big or I look terrible in purple or that boy over there thinks X or Y of me. There's a big relief. Eventually you have lived in your skin so long, it's perfectly comfortable. 

So, my goal between now and my birthday in a couple of months is to DUMP the past, in a good way. As Coach says, "Fagetta Bout It!"

Flush it! Begone. Goodbye. Out. Because there's nothing to be done about it now, and no reason to hang on to or dwell on it. The Now, and the Future, need that space. 

Flylady says, "Make sure everything in your house makes you smile. If it doesn't, OUT it goes."

I have files of papers, and computer files, unfinished books, things I've insisted I  "should do" for the past ten years, old love letters, too many photographs, more than one box of "junk" I keep saying I'll sort through, a shirt I kept because my boyfriend in New Orleans liked it...you know the stuff. 

The watch I "need to" get repaired; the poster I "need to " get framed; the books I "will" read. And things that remind me of mistakes and regrets. Why am I holding on to THOSE?

Here's a hard one to dump--a basket of New Orleans favorites. Their local chicory coffee, powder mix for Beignets (don't eat that! Wait, go to New Orleans and have the real thing), some rice and beans in a box. I loaded my car with New Orleans stuff when I evacuated for the last time, as if I'd never see real food again, or could somehow take what I'd lost with me. So there sits the basket, two years later. ALL THIS STUFF HAS TO GO.  NOT my leather flight jacket from my stint with the US Navy. NOT my Icelandic wool jacket (though it will never fit again!) (Was I ever THAT tiny?).  I know what to keep and what needs to go.

Except one thing. 

Viking Van Lines hired US-1 to move my stuff from New Orleans. I don't know about them generally, but for me, they cheated me of major cash, then trashed my stuff...dropped it or rolled the truck or something... I mean it arrived incredibly demolished, having survived the hurricane but not the movers...they never compensated me, AND just to rub salt in the wound, their web site says, "We donate a per cent of our earnings to the survivors of Katrina."  I doubt it. I'm a survivor and they did me nothing but grief.

See? I'm bitter. I'm angry. It was injust. It killed me financially and I'm still stuck with the debt. I have struggled with this over and over. So here I am. Year end. Shall I put another push into it? Get my money? Report them to the Attorney General as they deserve? Or shall I rip up all the photographs, the reports, the letters, the documents, and Fagetta Bout It? Chalk it up to loss sustained due to disaster, can't be helped, isn't likely to happen again, let it go.

I think we all have to find what the real hook is in a situation. What HOOKS me into that no-good lover I can't let go of? What hooks me into that crummy job? That habit or addiction? Until I know what the hook is, or I understand well what got me hooked in there in the first place, I cannot authentically let go of it.

You know the story of the monkeys they catch by setting out a box with a small hole in one end, with a banana inside. The monkey puts his arm in the hole, grabs the banana, and finds it doesn't fit out through the hole. He pulls and squirms and wrestles and has fits, but he cannot get that banana out of that box. 

Then people rush out to nab him. He could be free in a second, but he won't let go of that banana! He's caught. His life is changed forever. If he'd just have let go! But what makes him cling to it? Could be hunger and need, stubbornness, a feeling its rightfully his, too much trust...so many things. 

Hmmm. I guess if I'm comparing myself to a trapped monkey, I've answered my own question!

Thanks for listening. Sending everyone a big smile.  

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Tags: Monkey and the banana, let go, Fagetta Bout It, hold on, end of year, hooks, hooked, stuck, trapped, Viking, US-1, Katrina, movers, beignets, New Orleans, flylady, Smile, junk, Declutter