Tag: letting-go

  • Letting Go – with the flow

    From a spiritual, esoteric lens, we are God experiencing Himself in the 3D. We are also the Universe, as we carry both polarities within us.

    God gave humans free will, right?

    The concept of free will can sometimes feel like an illusion, philosophically speaking. We don’t really know whether we’re following a path our souls chose before we took our first breath, or if it’s just our ego/mind believing it has free will.

    But the freedom of choice – whether it comes from the soul or the ego, is still there.

    And if we look at our own lives, at how we’ve tried to force certain situations, certain people, certain outcomes, instead of detaching and letting things flow… that’s pretty much the opposite of “God mode.”

    More often than not, when we try to force something before its time, it backfires. What feels right to you might feel forced to someone else. What feels right to them might feel forced to you.

    That’s why letting go of control is such a big deal. When we try to control others, we’re basically saying we know better than them, better than their soul, better than the timing of their journey.

    If God gave us free will, and if we are God experiencing Himself in the 3D, then shouldn’t we also give everyone, including ourselves, that same freedom? To move at their own pace, without being forced, without being controlled. To just… be.

    Letting go doesn’t mean doing nothing. It’s not passivity.

    If you want to move somewhere new, you still need to look for jobs, for a place to live. If you like someone, you might have to actually say something.

    Our responsibility is in the choices we make for ourselves. After that, it’s about pulling our energy back, so it doesn’t turn into that Eye of Sauron effect, burning everything it focuses on and letting others make their own choices, with their own free will, with the timing of their own journeys that we actually know nothing about. 

    And also learning not to fall apart when their choices don’t include us.

    Because what’s truly meant for us won’t need to be forced. It will choose us, too, exactly when it needs to. 

  • On Bugs, Metros, and the Art of Letting Go

    In Milan, you get used to two things: heatwaves and unexpected insect roommates. It’s like the city never told them they weren’t invited, and now they just live here, casually buzzing into your apartment like they pay rent.

    One day, I killed two flies. No drama, no mercy, just out of annoyance.

    The next morning, I found a small bug at the metro. A woman wanted to crush it. I let a firm “no” out, and stopped her from doing so. I picked it up in a napkin, keeping it safe until I got out.

    Ten minutes later, on my way out, another insect. Another rescue. A strange kind of redemption arc began to unfold; one bug at a time.

    Months passed. I cried over the spider I killed by accident almost a year ago. Sobbed, actually. Like I had killed something sacred. Maybe I had.

    The next day, I found a bug underground again. Trapped between steel and foot traffic. And again, I set it free.

    I started to notice a pattern.

    Every time I released a bug from the belly of the city (this dark, mechanical underground maze) something in me felt lighter.

    Because maybe it was never just about the bugs.

    Maybe it was about all the things I’ve kept trapped in my own system: the grief, the control, the clinging to people who weren’t meant to stay. Maybe I keep freeing insects because I’m still learning how to free myself.

    And isn’t that the quiet spiritual metaphor of it all?

    We kill things we don’t understand.

    We trap what we don’t know how to handle.

    And every once in a while, we choose instead to set it free, even when we don’t have to.

    Sometimes I wonder if that tiny insect, dazed and dusty, ever turns around and thinks, thank you.

    Or maybe it just flies off, back to where it belongs; the sky, the trees, anywhere but here.

    And me?

    I stay behind on the metro platform, quietly realizing: setting things free… is a very freeing thing to do.