The Ease and Grace of Letting Go

Most memories from my early years are of special times with family and friends, yet one memory stands out as a message about the importance of letting go and allowing myself to be guided. While it happened in winter, even now—more than 50 years later—hardly a month goes by that the lesson doesn’t cross my mind.

I learned how to ski in seventh grade when our local recreation department started chartering buses for day trips from suburban Philadelphia to various ski venues. I went as often as I could. I’d take a lesson first thing and then spend the rest of the day practicing what I learned. My parents bought me a pair of used skis that were way too long for me, making them hard to control, but I was determined to learn. 

Falling Down

On one of my first trips, I decided to tackle the tamest of the beginner’s slopes before lunch. A ground lift called a J-bar took skiers to the top of the slope. The process was to stand with skis pointing toward the hill. A J-shaped metal bar that hung from a cable came up behind each skier, catching them right beneath the seat of their pants, and then guided them along tracks in the snow that led up the hill. 

“When my human will wants me to hold on to something, sometimes the most empowering thing I can do is to let go and allow the Divine within to guide me.”

When my turn came, I gripped the bar tightly as I wrestled with my skis to keep them in the tracks. Inevitably, either my grip would give out or my skis would cross and I’d fall. Then I’d ski down the hill and get back in the lift line. I did this over and over, sometimes getting farther up the hill, but always eventually falling. 

After a while, I took a lunch break, hoping I’d do better after a bit of rest and refueling. When I returned, I stood at the bottom of the same slope and watched the skiers on the lift, hoping to see how they were managing to master it. One was adjusting his goggles; another waved to friends. Others simply stood with their arms resting at their sides as the J-bars pulled them up the hill. None were hanging on as tightly as I had been! They were just allowing the lift to gently pull them along the track. 

Letting Go 

I was astonished. I’d misunderstood how the lift worked. It didn’t require holding on at all! All I had to do was point my skis in the right direction and allow the J-bar to guide me. Not only could I let go of the bar, but I was supposed to let go. It worked when I tried it. I made it to the top of the hill without falling. 

I had the distinct impression that this experience was going to stay with me—and that it might be about more than the J-bar. In the decades since, I’ve realized that when my human will wants me to hold on to something, sometimes the most empowering thing I can do is to let go and allow the Divine within to guide me. While at the time that may seem counterintuitive and maybe even scary, holding on can impede my progress and may cause me to miss an opportunity to grow and to trust. I no longer have those too-long skis, but I did keep the valuable lesson about the importance of letting go.