Last night at coffee after the meeting, someone spoke of a kite analogy they'd heard used to describe the process of "letting go" - we must release not only the body of the kite itself, but also let go of the string. It does me no good to let the body of the kite rise away from me, if I've still got the string wrapped in a stranglehold around my neck.
This, as so often happens, is precisely what I most needed to hear right now. I've been watching myself trying to turn something over, and even though I sincerely desire the freedom I know I'll get when I achieve this, I can't quite manage to let go of that string. Or I let go, it falls from my hand to drag along the ground right in front of me, and I stoop to pick it up "just for a moment," and pretty soon, I'm in that same uncomfortable position of having my arm yanked up, with my shoulder aching from the constant pull.
Letting go of most of something, or almost letting go, or partly letting go, does not work.
I must release my (fearful) grasp, and watch the kite sail out of my reach, body, tail, string and all, come what may. I must be willing to lose sight of it completely, trusting that my HP will look after me. I must be willing to stop straining to see it - resolutely turn and walk in the opposite direction, opening my heart to gratitude. I pray for the willingness to relinquish my illusion of control. to let go of that string.