Opening Hands

“Nothing is expected of you except ‘to be.’ That sounds great until you have to do it.” - Brother Benjamin, ex-Cistercian monk

Some years ago, I dated a woman I described as someone who gave and received with closed hands. She would ask for something, and then refuse to accept it. She’d offer something else, and when I went to take it she wouldn’t let go.

She’s in good company. A lot of us do this, in our relationships with others or in our own personal development. We ask for help, support or advice, but refuse to accept it.

We want to be different, but we resist changing. Or we accept change, but only if we’re in control of how, when, and how much of it happens.

This is fine…so long as it works. Sometimes though, it breaks down. People tell us things we don’t want to hear. We aren’t able to force change through our strength of will. No matter how hard we try, we’re still losing our temper or eating too much of the wrong thing. Or the pain of holding on starts to outweigh the fear of letting go.

We extend our arms to ask for help and when others are unable to pry open our fists, complain no one is helping. We extend our arms to give but refuse to open our hands when others reach to take what we say we’re offering. We push things away from us…and then refuse to let them go.

We have to learn to open our hands.

This doesn’t mean we’ll get what we want. We may also notice that problems don’t necessarily go away just because we stop holding on to them; sometimes they like to remain in our palms testing their wings for awhile before flying away. We need to let go without any expectation that things will change, even as we remind ourselves that change is inevitable.

A burlesque dancer of my acquaintance was fond of a quote she found on the internet: “Sometimes the hardest decision in life is whether to hold on or let go.” It feels like that sometimes.

My experience is there is no real choice. There is only letting go. Again and again, in thousands of ways in thousands of moments in thousands of situations.

The prospect seems too big. Perhaps even overwhelming. We fear what will happen if we give up control? If we don’t hold our selves together, surely we will fall apart. It’s too much to take on faith.

Faith will come. Fear will go. But those things will happen on their own. We don’t need to make them happen. We don’t even need to expect them to happen or know whether or not they are happening.

Keep the focus where it belong. Keep it on this small, but vast thing.

Focus on opening your hands.