By Jean Tinder
Sometimes I “get” something on such a deep feeling level that trying to unwind it into words seems ludicrous, like sifting the ocean one cup at a time or counting the snowflakes in a blizzard. It’s so much easier to have the full knowing permeate my being than try to squeeze it out into a linear string for you to read. But that’s what I’m here for, so let’s give it a whirl.
It has to do with letting go, a topic still fresh in my mind from the recent Heaven’s Cross and April Shoud webcasts. For both events, the focal point on stage was the grand bowl or chalice that Adamus used to represent giving up everything to soul. He talked a great deal about how important it was to release everything that might still be holding us back, inviting us to just let all the crap go so that our soul can transform it into wisdom. The invitation was really like more a requirement from Self in order that we could start receiving the gifts of Heaven’s Cross. After all, if someone is offering you a beautiful gift but your hands are full of rubbish, it’s hard to receive the good stuff!
Here’s the big picture that’s hard to put into words: it turns out that anything I’m holding onto is rubbish. The chalice of my soul isn’t only for letting go of the “bad stuff” and things I no longer want in my life. It’s there to remind me to drop everything and trust the flow. To really let go and let my God self take care of everything.
This level of letting go is a challenge because it runs directly counter to human nature. My human self has been trying to get un-lost for eons, and a large part of her remains convinced that if I believe the right thing, take the right actions, and please the right god in just the right way, maybe I’ll finally succeed. This human me believes that one day she can go beyond the hope of heaven into the actual experience, and she holds on desperately to every little glimpse or taste of that paradise. I can see that she’s still chasing the golden carrot, faithfully adapting to every new bit of information, and sorting experiences, expressions, feelings, ideas – everything about herself – into buckets of “Yes” and “No,” good and bad, wanted and rejected. And now, feeling how close heaven really is, she wants to get it right more than ever.
Fortunately, there’s also a wise Master part of me, and I keep reminding my human that all her devoted effort is the opposite of allowing. The duality of “this but not that” is the opposite of integration. Struggle is the opposite of release. And perseverance – her forte! – is the opposite of letting go. For the most part, the admonitions work, and she’s pretty good at staying in the background. But recently I decided to give her a little boost.
Adamus’ metaphor of the chalice, this “holy grail” standing on the altar of the soul, became for me a potent symbol of trust. But holy as it is, I also wanted it to be fun and personal. I wanted my own chalice, my own reminder to “Let it go” and “Don’t pick it up again!” and sometimes “Yes honey, let that go too.” So, I went shopping, found a pretty bowl, set it on my table, and it’s been reminding her/me every single day. Funny though, its effectiveness is mostly due to the name I gave it. You see, sitting in a place of honor on a lovely glass table in my favorite room, you will find my elegant golden Fuck It Bucket.
How do I let something go? Heck, how do I let everything go? By remembering that all the sorting I used to do doesn’t matter anymore, because now there’s only one bucket into which everything goes.
Having a moment of self-doubt and loathing? Fuck it.
Wishing some “super mom” part of me would get over it so that adult children might move on? Fuck it.
Having trouble with the cognitive dissonance of hating on rich people while wishing I was abundant? Fuck it.
Feeling overcome with peace, contentment, and joy – and wondering how to keep it that way? Fuck it.
Disappointed about today’s aches and pains? Fuck it.
Worried about how this project or that dream will turn out? Fuck it.
Sure, it can start out as a mind game, like repeating “I’m abundant and healthy” over and over while not really believing it. But when I remember nothing matters nearly as much as I used to think it did, it’s easy to keep letting go. The mind is still a little grumbly because it really likes having problems to solve. But “problems” and “solutions” are two of the old buckets I don’t use anymore, so I give the mind other stuff to noodle on. Trying another approach, dear mind asks, “How can I live a life of ease and grace without fixing the problems that are clearly standing in the way? How will they ever be solved if I let them go?”
That’s when I look over at my Fuck It Bucket and remind my mind that it’s all about flow. And trust. And allowing. And all that other good stuff. And you know what? It works!
It’s helpful for me to remember that my energy is like water and when I let go, it’s like removing the rubbish from a river. This beautiful flow meanders through my reality, bringing everything to life and life to everything. But when I sort things into the old buckets, it’s like a short-sighted developer who thinks she knows better than the river where and how it should flow. It might even be that some of her precious construction projects will get flooded out and destroyed if she stops managing everything. But if the river is simply allowed to flow, a whole new lush and verdant garden, full of everything she needs, will come into being. By working WITH my natural flow instead of fearing it, everything in my reality landscape can finally realign and reorient to what I really want, and all without any effort on my part! Once I toss all those management buckets into the beautiful golden Fuck It Bucket, the flow takes care of everything.
In fact, that’s exactly what’s happening in my life. Oh sure, I sometimes still get caught up in the problem/solution spin, in future/past beliefs like fear and regret, in otherness thinking like “I hate what that person’s doing.” But then I see my lovely little chalice, my bucket to replace all buckets, and remember what to do. One simple little phrase reminds me that the flow is always perfect. And then it is. Always.