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Learning to let go

I am learning to let go, slowly, ridiculously slowly.  Not just one thing, but all things. 

Tiny moments in the day remind me to breathe, relax and let go.

It is daylight saving here in Melbourne, and in my quest for quotidien magic tonight after work I walked with my son, who rode his bike.  We followed the light to the park, where we played frisbee and laughed at each other and yelled encouragement if we got within a mere foot of the falling frisbee.

On the way back home from the park, he rode off without looking back. He crossed roads and turned corners without me by his side.

In an instant, I saw my child growing up.  I resisted the urge to call after him, to ask him to slow down.  I have to trust that he knows what he is doing – because he does.  He is sensible.  There was still a distance beyond which he wouldn’t travel without me.  Surprisingly, I felt safe in how long that distance has become.  And yet I could hear the whispers of loss, because I know one day he will be riding away from me into adulthood.  And I have to begin to let him go; starting now, even now.

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