Letting go – what is it?
When the search becomes an inner journey
When what is now called spirituality began to open up within me in a whole new way, it was like a door - I didn't even know existed - suddenly opened. It wasn't something I was looking for before and it wasn't something I could explain - but it was real.
There was a depth there that called to me, a longing to understand what it was I was experiencing, what it meant and where it wanted to take me.
In my search for answers , a whole new language emerged .
Words, expressions, and symbols that were used as if they were already self-evident. I wanted to understand them – not just repeat them – but feel them from within, so that they could have real meaning for me.
It is human to seek meaning when something changes.
Not because everything has to be understood immediately, but because longing itself carries a direction. When something begins to move deep within us, it is an invitation to listen more closely.
One of the expressions that came back to me often was:
“Let go.”
I carried a big, deep question mark about what it really meant. Not as a theory or mantra, but as a lived experience in the body and in the heart. Questions after questions that circled around in my mind, without a clear answer or path to follow.
What are you really holding onto?
Are they memories?
Interpretations?
Identities?
Roller?
Feelings that were once true, but no longer carry the same meaning?
And how does one do such a thing in practice – to let go – in the midst of real emotions, real relationships, real memories, and real lives?
It was as if the words pointed to something profound, but the path itself was silent. Not because it was hidden, but because it needed to be felt , not understood.
And that's where a special, different journey began.
Not with the answer.
Without the question.
And that's where I want to start here too – together with you, who may be standing there now wondering, the same way I once did.
What letting go doesn't mean
When I first heard the expression “Let go” in the spiritual realm, in healing, I tried to understand it in my mind. I thought it might mean forgetting, stopping feeling, moving on, or closing the door to something that hurt.
But trying to force yourself not to feel, not to remember, not to long or not to care – that doesn’t create freedom but tension. It puts a lid on the heart and it makes breathing shorter, not deeper.
Letting go does not mean:
- turn off your emotions when it comes to what hurt you
- to forget something that was important
- pretending that something never hurt
- “forgive” before the body is ready
- force oneself to move on
- cut out parts of oneself or one's history
And it's not an achievement. It's not something you can decide in your head. It's not something you can force.
If we try to let go before we have fully understood what we are holding onto, the body feels it.
It says more or less quietly:
“Not yet.”
And it's not a failure.
That is wisdom.
It is certainly meant kindly when someone says “you need to let go.” It can come out of consideration, out of goodwill, out of a feeling of wanting to help.
But the words themselves do not show the way.
They don't tell you what you're holding on to, or how to let go of your grip. And when what feels strong inside doesn't get its place or its time, the words can almost feel empty – as if something important is lost between the lines.
Letting go cannot be urged. It cannot be ordered. It needs to grow from within, when the body is ready, when the heart has caught up with the thought, when the feeling has been allowed to exist and be heard.
And sometimes letting go is about something more peaceful:
to approach what we have long turned away from. Not to solve it quickly, but to dare to see what we have not been able to bring to light before. It may be sides of ourselves that have been pushed aside. Old feelings that were never put into words. Memories that continue to speak, even when we thought we had moved on.
Letting go can begin at the moment when one is ready to look at one's shadows - one's traumas, one's wounds - not to judge them, not to analyze them - but to recognize that they too have belonged to us.
When something is allowed to be seen, it is also allowed to begin to soften.
What it can mean to let go
So the first thing that became clear to me personally was that I didn't understand how to let go. I didn't know how to do it, where in the body it happens. Not when it should be. But over time I realized that letting go is not an action. It's not something we do.
It's something that happens when:
- What once hurt has been acknowledged.
- The feeling, the pain, the sadness has finally been allowed to exist
- history has taken its place
And suddenly we notice:
Something inside us no longer holds as tightly. Breathing goes a little deeper. There is more space inside.
It's not big. Nothing dramatic.
It's quiet.
When we grow together with our experiences
For many, it doesn’t start with a big insight or a clear direction. More often, it starts with a curiosity, a feeling that something inside us is stirring and wants to be understood – even if we may not know what that means yet. It can feel like something is calling, but in a way so soft that it’s almost just a whisper. And for some, it comes as a bigger impulse, almost like a nudge from within, saying: “look here”. Not as a truth or an answer, but as a feeling that something wants to be noticed.
In the curiosity that follows, it becomes natural to seek contact with others who also feel, wonder and explore. Conversations are opened, relationships are formed, questions are shared. We try our way, often without knowing whether the steps are “right” or “wrong”. We learn by feeling, and the sentences that circulate around us – like “let go” – only become true when they have slowly been allowed to grow within ourselves.
Otherwise, the path can become fragile. Footholds can be lost. Doubts can grow. Emotions can surge that we don't know what to do with. It can feel like we're lost for a while.
But even that is ultimately part of the journey.
It is not a sign that something is wrong, but that something within is being reshaped.
It takes time for the inside to rearrange itself, to understand what is old and what is new, to feel the difference between what belonged then and what belongs now. When that happens, it can feel uncertain – but uncertainty is often a transition, a place where the old has let go but the new has not yet taken shape.
It is an open space.
A place where nothing needs to be rushed.
A place where the next step can grow on its own.
Sometimes we continue straight away, perhaps even too quickly, almost in the same breath. Other times we have time to stop, rest, or let something land before the next step comes.
The important thing is not the pace.
The important thing is not to always understand.
The important thing is that the movement remains.
That something in us continues to want to move forward, even when the steps are small.
Everything has its meaning in our personal paths.
Insights don't always land at the same time as the experience happens. What letting go looks like, how the phrase "letting go" is understood, and how the process takes shape - it's something that grows from within. Everyone finds it on their own path, at their own pace.
Sometimes understanding only comes much later, when the heart and body have caught up with the mind. When what we have been through has sunk in and woven together into something coherent. Then it no longer feels like something you are trying to understand from the outside – it feels true from the inside.
Letting go is often a process of trying things out, slowly and carefully. Allowing thoughts, feelings, and experiences to come together without rushing to an answer. There is no ready-made map to follow. No one has to know the way from the beginning. The path becomes clear as it is lived.
It is through experience that something changes deeply. Through what has been felt in the body, not just thought in the mind. That is why it can take time.
It's not delay – it's maturity. A gentle ingrowth into what is true, step by step.
At least this is how I understand it today.
And understanding must continue to grow.
Just like me.
Just like you.
When presence leads
Approaching letting go is not about trying to change anything, but about daring to be with what is already felt.
One way to start might be to become aware of the moment when something inside you tenses up — and let it be there, as it is, without rushing or responding. When the tension is allowed to be seen without being corrected, the breath can slowly find its way back.
Not knowing is also allowed here. It is not meant to be understood all at once.
Feeling comes first, understanding comes later. The heart has its own rhythm, and it does not have to follow the pace of thought.
If it feels supportive, you can, for example, place a hand on your chest or stomach in such moments.
Breathe in slowly.
Breathe out even slower.
Listen inwardly, not with your mind but with your whole being.
This is where letting go begins — in presence, not in action.
There are moments when inspiration comes from outside: through healing, various forms of therapy, conversations or courses.
But the shift itself often doesn't happen right there - it opens up, provides language, tools, understanding, aha moments, support and guidance - but the change itself happens inside. Often later - at the moment when the body is ready to soften and what has long been held tight is allowed to breathe for the first time with and within you.
Letting go is never something we force.
It happens.
When the time is right.
When there is space.
When something inside says: now .
A moment of silence
There are moments when something inside pulls back to catch up. As if the inner self needs silence to be able to hear itself again.
Not to understand more, but to feel without effort.
In such moments, breathing can begin to change on its own, almost imperceptibly.
Not because it has to, but because the body remembers what it's like to breathe without holding.
And sometimes, in the midst of the simplest things, the words can come:
“I don’t need to understand everything today.”
Not as a promise.
Not as a technique.
Just as a soft gesture inwardly, saying that things can be as they are right now.
In the quiet space between inhalation and exhalation, what has been tense can begin to loosen.
Not quite.
Not all at once.
Just a little.
Enough to make it feel possible to be here.
And if you ever feel like your body wants to be involved a little more,
You can let it do it its own way.
Perhaps through a movement,
perhaps through a sigh,
or maybe by just staying a little longer.
There is nothing to do right.
There is nothing to be done.
Where everything can take shape in peace and quiet
There is nothing in you that needs to go away in order for you to move on. Feelings that still feel alive, memories that still speak, and parts of you that once protected something important, are allowed to remain. Nothing needs to be pushed away, held back, or erased. Everything that has been in you has had a place, a meaning, and a time.
And there is no need to rush. There is no level you have to reach and no point you need to be at now. You can be right where you are, in the rhythm that is your own, in the process that is already happening within you.
What you are holding onto will begin to let go when it has been acknowledged and received. When it has been fully felt, when you have lived through it, and when it no longer needs to be carried as hard.
Letting go doesn't happen by pushing. It happens when the body is ready, when the heart has caught up, and when something inside slowly begins to soften.
It is not a path that moves forward in steps and directions but more like an inner movement that slowly settles into place, at the pace that is possible to bear.
Life continues to grow from within, not by us controlling or driving it, but by us allowing it to take the form it needs to take, right now.
And in that there can be a quiet whole. Not as a goal that has been achieved or an insight that has come clear and complete - but as a soft certainty in the wordless:
That what is, can be here.
That what was, must have been.
That what comes, must come in its own time.
© by HerMine's
Last updated November 10, 2025
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