A Short Treatise On The Power Of Letting Go
Looking back on the past 2-3 years of my life, I see two different narratives that compete throughout the weeks and months along the way.
The first narrative is one of willfulness. This is the narrative that says: “If only you would try a little harder, work a little longer, climb a little higher—then you will be successful, then you will achieve what you long for, then you will be satisfied with all the desires of your heart.
The second narrative is one of willingness. This is the narrative that says: “If only you would be able to let go, to assent that you don’t control outcomes and that you can’t muscle your way up by your own bootstraps, if only you would be willing to give up control and direction—then you would have peace in the midst of uncertainty, then you would have joy in the struggle, then you would have patience in the process, then you will relate to you brothers and sisters on the journey alongside you.
These two narratives are quite funny in how they play out. One is advertised in every image of success, every movie depicting glory, and every voice acclaimed as an expert. The other is portrayed in humble yet honorable depictions of true happiness found here on earth, real contentment that doesn’t sway with the wind, serenity that can’t be justified by any outer cause.
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When I re-examine the past years of my life, oh how my soul longs for willfulness. Oh how I yearn for hard work to be the antidote for the cry of my heart. Oh how I wish that was always the answer. Because really, that path is pretty easy. All it takes is a continual pursuit of discipline and sacrifice to produce the work that is believed to bring about something greatly needed by others. While it is definitely effortful, it is all within my control, and that is a great comfort to the soul… except when you eventually realize you aren’t in control…
The willingness model is a much less sexy, less fun, less appealing path. At first it seems downright foolish. It feels like you are taking the easy way out, like you are agreeing to excuses for why work hasn’t been done to the extent you think it should. It isn’t a tangible model because it relies on an intangible heart posture for its success—something that can’t be proven but only seen in the fruit it produces over time. This is truly the long-road and not the quick-hit, it is invisible to others for much longer than you’d like, and the lack of tangible fruit along the way will continue to bombard you with doubts alongside the fruit that’s already been thrown by others. It takes trust, and humility, and faith, and lots of all three to walk down this path successfully.
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When I think of these two words, I see their beauty in a similar light.
It might be easy to come to a brash conclusion that willfulness is bad and willingness is good, but what does that even mean?
I guess what I think of when I hear willfulness is: the willfulness to do the work that’s needed even when you don’t want to. The willfulness to keep going, regardless the cost.
When I hear the word willingness, I think of a much different connotation. I think of the idea of: a willingness to let go of a thing, an idea, or an action. The willingness to let go, regardless the cost.
Can both postures, both ideas, both focuses be mutually beneficial? I believe so, but I think that the order is of distinct importance.
If one is first willful and then is willing, was the willingness out of obligation or by choice? Most likely it was by some form of obligation. If one is first willing then willful, was the willfulness by choice or by obligation? Only by choice, because obligation isn’t present when one is willing to let it go. This is why willingness must come before willfulness.
Yet, once one is willing to let go, the willfulness to take something up, especially in light of the possibility of letting it go, is the willfulness that ought to be desired by all.
It is certainly the kind that I aspire to attain, although most days I am afraid I fail to do so.
“Let go or be dragged.” — Zen Proverb
