I school myself to let go

As my spirituality and religious beliefs shift farther and farther
from my Christian roots, one particular Christian observation that
has deepened in meaning for me over the past several years is Lent.
Growing up, I was taught Lent is the time when you give up something
for forty days. It was all about sacrifice and denial. It was
simply an exercise in discipline. There was no discussion of
transformation or growth. Just denial.

About two years ago (which makes me realize I have been blogging for
two years as I remember writing about this at the time), I asked my
pastor about what to give up and she beautifully explained it is not
about giving up something, but about bringing yourself closer to
God. Now, that makes sense, coalescing with my evolving
spirituality as a progression through life, not a religion. That
year I gave up cynicism, a step which probably initiated a new
openness allowing me to be where I am, which is not feeling fully at
home in 'religion' and Christianity, but feeling more spiritually
centered and alive than ever before. I feel blessed.

Over breakfast this morning, debating if I should indulge in the
ultimate pancakes (which I didn't), my friend encouraged me to as
yesterday was official pancake day, perhaps, she noted, because it is
the day before Lent. Ah, I had forgotten. Lent.

What, I wondered, do I need to release, to discipline myself in, so
that I could be closer to God, closer to my own purpose and, as so
many of the mentors I have been reading would say, my own divine self.

Control.

Yes, give up control. There is so much in my life at the moment I
want to bring to fruition or resolution, but am not able to 'make' it
happen. Death, love, new ventures, trips, classes, books to read,
writing. In my desire to control, I am scattered. So I give up
control.

Yet, as I stand in line to have the ashes marked on my forehead
(again, something never practiced until I attended this church, a
ritual I find provokes reflection, and, as the liturgy today stated,
is a beautiful representation of the burning of the valueless,
leaving us with the essentials of what we need to live in harmony
with the universe), I wonder how I can give up something I don't
have. I don't have control of anything my heart, my thoughts, each
moment and each breath, creating my own reality; giving this control
up would not bring me closer to the clarity and joy I seek. I could
relinquish my desire to control that which is beyond my control.
However, this seems to passive, more of an acceptance than an act of
discipline.

Perhaps, it is my impatience and my attachment to expectations that I
must relinquish.
Which reminds me of the A.R. Ammons poem I was searching for on
Valentine's Day. "I school myself to let you go . . ." It is this
kind of discipline that I need. To let go of my impatience and just
be and do what each moment requires of me. This is difficult as I
must prepare for my upcoming semester though I am anxious to start
the new computer classes, as I want time to stand still holding my
mother in this world yet also awaiting her passage into a place of no
suffering and perfect peace, as I contemplate shifting my life again
to fit in graduate school while I enjoy new hobbies and activities,
as I am pulled between work and pleasure reading, as I write to delve
into my own spirit and understanding wondering when I will ever get
to 'real' writing.

I school myself to let go.