Letting go: homecoming to the heart
The longing to return home, to the place we belong to and love, is unbearable. Like a wild forest fire burns everything to ashes before new growth is possible.
Let go! my thoughts whisper softly. I hear them, yet I am still afraid. I don't know what, but whatever it is that frightens me must find what is looking for and set me free.
Letting go is a journey of transformation. It opens us up to embody the vastness within. It connects us with our deeper, more creative self. One must hold on and let go at the same time to achieve mastery and balance.
Within ourselves, there is a hunger for holding onto that which makes us the unique human beings we are. Often we think that we are our thoughts, experiences, and identity. In some ways, this may be true, but we are so much more than just that.
In July of last year, I left the US and my beloved work with Empowered Women International (EWI). EWI was my brainchild, my own vision for a better world and my home away from home for 14 years. We moved to Switzerland, a dreamlike place for our family, but far from the people and the community I loved.
ll my preparations to transition into a new life have been major pillars of support in this process. Yet, once I walked away, something intrinsic vanished. An unexpected void swallowed a part of my being. That part of my life that I once loved got trapped in an ethereal place. Sisters, who are my trusted wings on this journey, they too have been captured in this abyss. Letting go became personal and not without losses or pain.
Ignoring and starving these raw and haunting emotions is what I would have done in the past. But not anymore. It’s easier to run away from discomfort or fear, than to sit with it in silence and to listen. I wasn't going to run away this time. I had to learn to be present with all my feelings, and give each one of them sacred time, space and attention.
When I made the decision to leave, I wanted to dedicate myself to meet the "inner Marga." I always sensed that somewhere deep inside, there was a woman who I loved, yet I didn't know her. She came out to play with me from time to time, and I just adored her.
I so enjoyed the way she was. How she spoke to me in a soulful way. How her eyes gazed into mine with deep curiosity. How her hands moved effortless making beauty with her graceful touch. She mesmerized me. How could I have more time with her?
My existence was abundant with life-changing work, powerful friendships and a family to raise. I haven't had a sabbatical or a long break since I started my career as a journalist in my twenties. One thing after the other, my life flowed like a river springing over rocks and making its way. And I thrived. Always on the go, always on the next opportunity.
I loved every moment of it, but something in me knew that time has come to pause. I was determined to search for and meet this inner being without the built-in identity that I came to know so well. Attachment often gets in the way of discovery. But I was primed to practice letting go.
Letting go didn’t mean that I have to give up my treasured relationships or my life’s passion. It didn’t mean that I have to forget my past and everything I loved about it. It meant that I had to embrace the present moment in its multiplicity of feelings and dimensions. It meant that I had to be open to the gift unfolding in the here and now.
The door that I closed when I left, over time disappeared freeing me to a new world. In this expansive universe, I found endless resources in my creativity, resilience and imagination. I found strength in my faith and wisdom, in nature, in gratitude, in friendships and in abundant love.
My eyes regained their twinkle. My mind became less occupied by heavy thoughts that ran in the background for so long. I made room for new learning, which replaced old voices of fear. I started to take French lessons as a new language and to learn to bike. I began painting and writing, making poetry, taking pottery classes, doing yoga and dancing. I started a graduate degree, which returned me to my love for the arts as medicine for the soul and our hurting world.
The longing to return home became an inner journey, a homecoming to the heart. With this peace within, I knew I had to return to see my sisters and my good friends in the US. My visit in May before I started graduate school was a time of nourishment and reunion.
I felt as if I was born again. In a fresh mountain lake this time, swimming with the swans, flying with the eagles and dreaming with the mind of a maker. My sisters offered me their wisdom and their gracious blessings. Our love for one another was healing and boundless. I knew I could let go and be home in the same time. No judgement was in this place of love.
And so, I stepped back to witness my emotions soaring like a thousand veils into the unknown. Letting go was the only way to love, to be loved and to be free.