Here’s 1 Question That Will Finally Set You Free

Every morning I do something excruciating.

I ask myself this simple question:

What am I hanging on to from the past that stands in the way of my freedom?

Oh, it hurts. It forces me to confront things I don’t want to let go of. I want to hang on tight to those painful slights from the past. The things that in some ways fuel us — only momentarily — to prove others wrong, get revenge, to right the wrong I was given.

But it doesn’t work that way.

It only hurts us — not them. 

Most of the time the people who wrong us — cut us off in traffic, overlook us for promotions, underappreciate our skills or knowledge, do something we can’t forgive — don’t even look back.

So why do we do it to ourselves?

There’s an old Zen parable about two monks — one old, one young — coming across a rushing river, with a woman standing there. The woman asks the monks for help getting across the river.

But since monks aren’t allowed to touch women, the younger monk never considers it. The older monk, instead, picks the woman up and carries her across the river.

Later that day, the younger monk is still trying to understand why the older and wiser monk did what he did. He asks, "How could you carry that woman? We're not supposed to touch women!" The older monk replied, "I set her down on the other side of the river. Why are you still carrying her?"

We all carry things from our past. Nobody is immune to this human condition that prevents us from ever thinking about past hurts. 

The subtle comment that person let loose. How our plans didn’t end up just how we wanted. The time we were completely overlooked for someone we think is less talented.

But think about the time we spend wasting time on these thoughts, these hurts, these moments in time that we can’t get back. Probably, too much to count.

Even worse, think about the things we are trading this time for: moments with our family on vacation, opportunities to play on the floor with our children, date nights with our spouses. In essence, we allow our time, energy, and sometimes the best parts of our lives to be completely disrupted because we are replaying some prior conversation or upset about the consequences of a million decisions that lead to this. 

Unjustified comments, miscommunicated slights, and some memories from years ago still haunt me even though nobody else remembers.

If we aren’t careful we will spend more of our free time upset about what’s gone wrong, than we spend actually enjoying what’s right in front of us.

As Nelson Mandela was being released after an unjustified 27-year prison sentence, the future President of South Africa told himself, “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison."

You can read countless other stories told by prisoners who survived the Nazi Germany camps. How hard must it have been for people who were imprisoned for no decent humane reason at all, to go on with their life…letting it go? Moving on? Accepting that parts of their life will stolen from them?

Your heart breaks for these people. Your heart breaks for those who weren’t able to let go, move on, and move past it.

Your heart breaks for these people. Your heart breaks for those who weren't able to let go, move on, and move past it. Yet, their experiences can offer us a valuable perspective on our own struggles with letting go. The next time you're upset because somebody at work said something that upset you, think about what it would be like to lose years of your life, serving an unjustified prison sentence. Because in a way, if you don't let go, you're giving yourself a prison sentence of your own making.

That’s the thing about letting go. Moving on. Choosing to take the high road.

You gain your freedom.

"Some of us think holding on makes us strong,” said novelist, Herman Hesse, “but sometimes it is letting go."

Putting the responsibility of letting go on ourselves is liberating and gives us back power over a situation we felt powerless over. And it’s worth it every time.

Let someone else carry that luggage, if they must. But you don’t need to and you shouldn’t.

It’s not worth it today. It certainly won’t be worth it tomorrow.

When I ask this question every morning, I groan inside. I never find it easy to make a conscious decision to rid myself of this thing, I feel justified in hauling this thing around for longer. But that won’t do me any good.

It’s messy. Painful. Not much fun.

Some slights take more than one journaling session to get rid of. Some take time. Patience. 

Yet, the only true way I know to find freedom is to remove it from my shoulders. To dig in deep, ask the tough question, and do the work of getting rid of that thing.

Because if you aren’t careful, all of them start to pile up. And it gets harder to get rid of the old slights. You get harder because of it.

That’s not freedom. That’s not worth it.

Find a way to let go of the things you keep carrying around with you. 

It’s worth it.