I was putting laundry away yesterday when I saw a pair of shorts hiding in the bottom of my dresser. I’ve had these shorts for five years, and in that time I’ve worn them twice. The first time I wore them they were so unbelievably, crotch-cuttingly uncomfortable that I banished them to the Dresser Wastelands.
Why would I ever wear them a second time, you ask? Well, I forgot how uncomfortable they were. Until I had them on, and it all came flooding back to me. The riding. The chafing. The binding.
The million dollar question, then, is why am I keeping these shorts?
I thought about this, staring down at those horrid little shorts, and it occurred to me that I didn’t want to get rid of the shorts until I bought new ones. Never mind that I don’t plan to wear these shorts in the meantime (or ever again), or the fact that I have many pairs of shorts that I do like wearing; I couldn’t get rid of them until I knew for sure that I’d be able to replace them.
Wow.
I’ve wrote about this fear of letting go before. For me, it comes from a place of lack, from a fear that, if I get rid of something there might not be anything better to take its place.
Just this morning, a friend sent me a Mystic Mamma article, and this passage by April Elliot Kent really spoke to me:
It is the Taurus season of idleness and plenty. The urge is to ask for even more beauty, more pleasure, more prosperity. But until we have successfully navigated Scorpio’s portal, asking for more is like going shopping when our arms are too full of garbage bags to carry new purchases.
So, take the garbage to the curb. Tip the last drop from the cup. Give up the thing that isn’t bringing you joy.
Let yourself be empty, and let your heartbeat resonate within the cavernous space that opens up. Something new is coming. Make your life ready for it. Then unleash your imagination, and summon it.
Amen to that.
I’ve been practicing the art of letting go of connections that no longer light me up, which has created space for more nourishing friendships and family relationships (and more yummy time to myself), but I still experience difficulties when it comes to letting go of things. Strange, really, because you’d think it would be a helluva lot harder to let go of people than a pair of shitty shorts, right?
This speaks to some of my lingering entanglements around money, which have been part of my healing journey this year, like uncovering my love-hate relationship to money, witnessing my weird attitudes toward wealth, and the steps I’ve been taking to heal my money relationship.
While I’ve been making massive strides in this area, I still struggle at times with feeling like there isn’t enough to go around and there won’t be enough in the future. So I better hang onto those shorts.
Actually, no–sorry, shorts. Now that I’m on to you, I can choose to make a different choice.
I can face my fears of lack and put those outmoded thought patterns to the test.
I can get rid of the shorts and trust that, if I need to, I will manifest new shorts.
I can choose to walk the path of prosperity…in comfy shorts that don’t ride up my butt.
While standing in front of my dresser, having this little epiphany, I thought about just taking the shorts to Goodwill and being done with it. But this feels more significant than that. This feels like an opportunity to make a clean break from past choices, to send a clear message to my subconscious and to the Universe that I am ready to take out the trash and open myself up to new opportunities, and new shorts.
So this weekend, I’m going to use the shorts in ritual. I’m going to put them on one last time and experience how truly, godawfully uncomfortable they are, because, really, isn’t that the perfect metaphor for how we constrict our choices and our Souls, and force ourselves to take mincing, little steps, each one a little more pained than the last, all out of fear that there isn’t going to be anything better than this?
Once I’m clear on what this sensation feels like, I am freeing myself from the shackles of the shorts! Literally stepping out of them and spiritually stepping out of the constricted cage of fear.
To close the ritual, I will cleanse the shorts of any harmful energies in preparation for giving them to Goodwill. And as I do so, I will remember that the things that no longer serve me might be exactly what someone else needs, but I have to be willing to let those things go in order to return them to the great cycle of Being. Hang on to them, and they’re just cluttering up my life instead of potentially benefitting someone else’s.
Thank you, shorts, for illuminating how I am keeping myself small and for showing me that I have a choice.
Blessed be.