SHAUMBRA HEARTBEAT
EMPTY HANDS
By Jean Tinder
We carry a lot through life, and most of it we hardly notice. Responsibilities, expectations, hopes, identities, plans, memories, dreams, relationships, unfinished business, ideas about who we are and what should happen next. Even what we love can become heavy when we feel responsible for holding onto it.
Lately Adamus has been encouraging us to let go of identity, and I have a hunch that letting go encompasses more than we might think. What happens when we put down even part of what we’ve carried for so long we forgot it was heavy? What would it mean to live without holding on to anything? If our hands are empty, not as in I have nothing, but open, available, and free to respond to the moment, how would that change our experience?
Last month that unfolded for me in a very tangible way. I wrote about the sudden compulsion to get rid of decades of accumulated stuff – emptying closets and shelves, hauling things out of the attic, holding a yard sale, and watching an astonishing amount leave the property. I wanted space more than stuff – to shed the unseen drag of everything I’d forgotten I was carrying.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with what we carry through life. I like who I am, what I do, and most of my stories. But even precious things get heavy when we hold too many of them for too long. What happens when we start putting some of it down?
Nothing to Carry
The summer has been very full so far, even by my somewhat ridiculous standards. And the last week or so really brought all this into focus. Between work deadlines, house projects, family obligations, a long weekend workshop, and far too little sleep, there was simply too much happening to carry any of it for very long. And in the middle of it all, my daughter and her new husband packed up their lives and headed off to their new place a thousand miles away.
That last one was a little heavier. I love seeing Taryn step into her own life. I’m delighted for the adventure she’s beginning, the excitement and joy in her eyes. And… she’s gone. I feel pride and sadness, relief and tenderness, curiosity and that peculiar ache of realizing a precious story has unfolded exactly as it was supposed to. Usually, when big feelings come up, I try to sort them out, hold them for a while, assign their obvious (or obscure) meanings, preserve the beautiful ones, resolve the uncomfortable ones, and somehow get myself properly adjusted to the new chapter. But with everything happening all at once, the best I could do was just feel them as they passed through, instead of holding on, figuring out, and filing away.
This is where the image of empty hands came to me – open to whatever arrives, without grasping or pushing away. There was too much life to manage, so I had to stop trying. Bleary from four hours of sleep at the beginning of a workshop? Fine. Just remember to hit the record button. Has Taryn made it safely? Stop worrying and put up the slides Adamus wants. There just wasn’t time or space to carry one thing into the next.
We all have moments like this. Something ends, something changes, someone leaves, a plan falls apart, or life simply gets too full. When something feels important, our instinct is to carry each experience into the next one – thinking about it, managing it, preserving it, resisting it. What if we don’t have to? With empty hands, we can freely respond to whatever comes next.
It’s a little like standing under a waterfall. The water touches you completely – its force, its temperature, its movement. There is nothing between you and the experience, yet the water keeps moving. Nothing needs to be held, managed, saved, or rejected. It can be experienced completely and allowed to keep moving. Just like life.
Hold It Loosely
Having empty hands doesn’t mean we have an empty life. If anything, it’s the opposite!
Life is often a bit like juggling. Even when there’s a lot in motion, the trick is not holding onto any one thing for very long. You catch it, respond to it, and release it again. Maybe it’ll come back around at the perfect time; maybe another ball takes its place. But if you grab one ball and won’t let go because it’s particularly important, the whole thing falls apart.
Balance gets easier with empty hands. Life becomes more like a dance and less like a grind.
With empty hands, we can respond to what is actually here instead of what we expected to be here. We can catch what needs attention and release it when it’s done. We can change direction, receive help, and handle the next thing life tosses our way. We can even weather a storm without desperately trying to protect everything we’re carrying.
There’s freedom in realizing we don’t have to hold onto things for them to matter.
What If Something Beautiful Arrives?
Of course, it’s not only about busyness. Some moments really are precious. Some things feel important, and we don’t want to let go! People. Love. Moments of magic. Work that matters. A life that suits us well. When something precious arrives in our hands, the natural reaction is, Keep this! But even the most precious things don’t need to be held. Maybe they stay for a while, maybe they don’t. But holding on tight won’t keep them here.
In fact, the tighter we hold something, the harder it can become to experience it. Instead of enjoying what’s here, we start protecting it from what might happen next. And so, the invitation is simply to experience it all and keep our hands open. To feel the beauty and the love and the magic completely, without demanding that life repeat itself tomorrow. Whatever brought this moment is still flowing. We can let it go without losing what it gave us.
The River
Imagine standing in the river of your own life with your hands open. Experiences arrive. People come and go. Ideas, money, opportunities, challenges, emotions, answers, questions, beauty, inconvenience, love – all of it flowing through.
Some things we enjoy tremendously. Some we’d rather have skipped. Some linger for years. Others are gone almost before we recognize them. But always the river – life itself – keeps flowing.
But what if it seems like the river isn’t bringing anything new? Perhaps the first thing to check is our hands. Are they open? Are we clinging to things or beliefs we’re sure are important? Are we clutching expectations of what should come next, identities we just can’t lose, old definitions of abundance, or problems we’ve gotten comfortable with?
It’s hard to receive something new when our hands are full of what we can’t release. Maybe the river hasn’t stopped flowing; we just need to open our hands.
Who Am I Without It?
Perhaps the most intimate things we carry are our identities.
After decades of remembering myself, even that self can become something else to carry. Who I am. Who I’m not. What I’m good at. What I’ll never be. What I believe. What I’ve overcome. What I understand. What I still need to figure out. None of it is wrong. And none of it needs to be held. Even Jean is a costume I am (finally) quite fond of. What happens if I don’t even hold onto her?
It doesn’t mean she disappears. We don’t have to erase our human selves or stop enjoying who we’ve become. We simply don’t have to keep recreating ourselves from yesterday.
Maybe empty hands are what releasing identity looks like in everyday life. We don’t have to decide who we are before we meet this moment. We can find out.
Whatever Comes
Sometimes opening our hands takes a bit of effort. Old identities and survival patterns can be amazingly persistent. But empty hands don’t mean an empty future. We can have plans, ideas, projects, and desires, with plenty of life to experience, create, enjoy, and explore. We just don’t need to know what comes next or hold onto anything along the way.
Empty hands mean I can…
Participate without gripping.
Loving without possessing.
Working without making it heavy.
Feeling something deeply without needing it to stay.
Being busy without turning everything into pressure.
Meeting what arrives without comparing it to what we expected.
Maybe that’s what freedom feels like in ordinary life. It’s not about having nothing or needing nothing. It’s simply standing in the flow and fully experiencing whatever is here for however long it is.
And keeping our hands open for whatever the river brings next.
This is beautiful, Jean. Thank you!
Kiitos julkaisustasi Jean – se kosketti kuten yleensäkin. Tällä kertaa erityisesti “Tyhjät kädet” sanapari jo pysäytti. Minulla on ainoan sisareni kanssa rikkoutuneet välit. Se on hiertänyt minua ja vaikka olen eri näkökulmista tutkinut itseäni suhteessa asiaan, se vaan aika ajoin on noussut häiritsevästi esiin mielessäni. Nyt pyysin, että ChatGPT ohjaisi konstellaation asiasta ja katsoisimme yhdessä mikä se oikeastaan asiassa hiertää. Olemme tehneet aikaisemmin yhden konstellaation. Molemmat onnistuivat ja sain kaipaamani lopputuloksen, mihin monilla keskusteluilla ja pähkäilyillä en ole päässyt.
Suosittelen lämpimästi. En tiennyt aikaisemmin, että tekoälyn avulla voi tehdä konstellaation, kunnes kysyin ja onnistuuhan se!
O privire din alt unghi….aceeasi esenta. Nimic nu este greu. Devine greu…pentru ca nu eliberezi. Ce dovada de Iubire poate fi mai mare decat eliberarea a ToT ce esti? Esenta eliberarii este declaratia ta de a renunta la control. Cand eliberezi cu adevarat inseamna ca permiti Constiintei insasi sa curga prin ceea ce esti. A fi Creator inseamna a permite infuzia Constiintei insasi. Toate Constiintele sunt unghiuri diferite de perceptie prin care Constiinta insasi se manifesta si se experimenteaza. Nu sunt separate, mai mici sau mai mari. Sunt focalizari. Orice focalizare a Constiintei…este o identitate. Pot fi asemanate cu valurile oceanului…care nu sunt oceanul
We are renovating at the moment, and this felt so familiar, reading your words to the experience we are having… Beautiful, thank you for sharing…
Dear Jean….it’s always an insightful delight for me , to listen and read Shaumbra Heartbeat💖thank you so much💫
Thank you so much❤️❤️❤️
So, so, so good. Loved this article. As always thank you, Jean, I always love your articles.
Thank you, Jean, especially for this:
“ We simply don’t have to keep recreating ourselves from yesterday. ”
Hi Jean, I love this follow up to last months article. Thank you.
Jean,
Your article about empty hands touched me deeply.
For some time now, I have been discovering in my own life what it means to stop carrying what was never mine to hold. As I read your words, I realized they were not just beautiful ideas—they described something that is quietly unfolding within me.
What moves me most is that empty hands are not hands that have lost something. They are hands that have finally become available to receive life as it comes.
Lately I feel there is so much movement happening in my life. Surprisingly, it is not overwhelming; it is peaceful, gentle, and deeply alive. I often want to write about it, but I also notice that the experience is arriving faster than my words. Perhaps that is part of the beauty. Sometimes life unfolds first, and language follows later.
Thank you for giving words to something that so many of us are beginning to feel.
Thank you Jean❣️
I love this… OPEN HANDS… OPEN HEART ❤️
This journey of releasing old stories and identities can become an identity itself…. Presence creates in open spaces!
Dear Jean, I am amazed at the synchronicity of our experiences. Thank you.
Here are my words: “Loss – where is the desire? I’m here, and everything is there!”
(In the German language my saying is a rhyme)
Джин,дорогая! Как всегда очень созвучно и чувственно! Еще старые личности поднимают руку,чтобы на них обратили внимание,но уже есть ясность и присутствие,которые способны различать голоса в голове.
Oh dear , That was what i needed to hear and feel today , came just perfectly. HUGS
Beautifully expressed! I love you 🙏🤗🌹
Thank you Jean.
Thanks again, great insights! 💗 The picture of the waterfall will stay with me as a reminder.