Trusting ourselves and letting go are two of the most important spiritual principles we can practice. Trusting ourselves affords us the opportunity to identify and release whatever keeps us physically, emotionally, and spiritually disconnected from ourselves, such as a close relationship or a job. When we let go and embrace our vulnerabilities, we peel away the hard shell of our egocentric identity so we can experience the essence of ourselves as pure love. These two principles are synergetic: the more we let go, the more we learn to trust ourselves; and the more we trust ourselves the more we can let go.
In his book A Path with Heart, Jack Kornfield identifies letting go as a central spiritual practice that helps us appreciate the brevity of life and prepare for death. He says, “When letting go is called for, if we have not learned to do so, we suffer greatly, and when we get to the end of our lives, we may have a crash course.”
Trusting ourselves takes more than deep breaths and positive mantras. It requires a conscious connection to our source and a commitment to releasing all attachments to ego. Such trust cannot be established in small increments; we either trust ourselves or we don’t. Trusting ourselves enough to let go is like having a safety net when walking on a high wire. It provides innate security that is not dependent on external circumstances.
Most of us lack the ability to trust ourselves to this degree because we fear that by letting go we will lose everything, most of all ourselves. So instead, we compensate by micromanaging everyone and everything around us. Temporarily such behavior makes us feel like our desired outcomes are certain, yet this is a false sense of security. Trusting ourselves is like getting into an express elevator to an observation deck and enjoying the ride rather than taking the stairs and overanalyzing every step. When we fear that in letting go we will suffer losses, we continually check our bank account to see if we are financially secure; obsess about our physical symptoms, think we may be ill; remain in unhealthy relationships to avoid being alone; maintain toxic social connections to feel like we belong; stay in a familiar job even if it causes us misery; and generally live in a guarded state, with locks on our hearts as well as our doors to avoid feeling unloved, unworthy, and vulnerable.
In her spiritual book When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chödrön describes such fear as “our natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.” She states, “We often find that the present moment is a pretty vulnerable place and that this can be completely unnerving and completely tender at the same time.” We often avoid trusting ourselves, letting go, and embracing our vulnerabilities by eating, drinking, using distractions, or self-medicating—until our lives fall apart or a spiritual crisis brings us, broken, to the bathroom tile floor.
For example, I experienced a spiritual crisis that made me realize the power of trusting myself and letting go to embrace my vulnerabilities while on a diving vacation in Honduras. The previous summer I had completed my open water dive certification. The experience of diving had helped me overcome my fear of suffocation stemming from a childhood trauma. Now, while in the boat in Honduras, I was both excited and nervous as I prepared for my first post-certification dive. A gentle, loving Honduran named Api was to serve as dive master for our group, and my partner and diving buddy, Doug, would be right beside me. I knew I had to let go of negative thinking, which often caused me to be fearful and set me up for failure and disappointment. As we geared up for the dive, I felt suddenly vulnerable, uncertain of underwater diving abilities.
As it turned out, I had difficulty executing the diving skills I had learned and, once underwater, became irritated with myself. This triggered such negative thoughts as, “How could you forget how to clear your mask?” and “Keep up with the group—you’re going to slow them down.” My unkind thoughts whipped me into a panic, causing me to breathe rapidly, using more air in my tank. And the more frustrated I became the more frenetically I flailed my arms and legs like a fish that had been caught. Losing my buoyancy and balance, I then began to drift too fast toward the surface. My strong reactions cued me in to the fact that two patterns had surfaced—the need for control and the need to be perfect. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I asked myself, “Who cries in their scuba mask?” At that point, I knew I needed to trust myself and let go so I could embrace my vulnerabilities rather than fearing them.
Fortunately, I had surrounded myself with loving people who could support me in tis endeavor. Doug stayed close, made eye contact, and signaled me, asking me if I was all right. Api, also realizing that I was struggling, reminded me how to clear my mask and use my BCD (buoyancy control device) to establish buoyancy. With their support, I began to breathe more rhythmically while shifting my negative thoughts to loving ones, such as, “You’re new at this so nobody expects you to be perfect.” Finally trusting myself, letting go of my fear, and embracing my vulnerabilities I slowly descended to thirty feet, where, breathing more deeply and focusing on the beauty that surrounded me, I felt a wave of peace wash over me.
Grateful for having finished the dive, I climbed back on the boat. As much as I wanted to avoid the challenge of again mastering diving techniques underwater, I knew it was crucial that I go on another dive so it would reinforce the trust in myself that I had just established. Before the dive, I let go of any expectations, affirmed my trust in myself, and reminded myself that I was co-creating the experience. I declared my intent to play and simply enjoy any experiences I encountered. I released from my mind all negative thoughts by repeating the mantra “Play, enjoy, and just be in the experience.”
As I lowered myself into the water, I felt lighthearted, a sensation that extended outward to Doug and the others in the group. When I started to experience difficulty again, I took deep breaths, trusted myself, and let go of fear and the need to control and be perfect, embracing my vulnerabilities. By focusing on the present experiences rather than my own potential difficulties, I sustained my balance, my movements became more fluid, and I felt more serene.
Trusting ourselves gives us the courage to take that first wobbly step into the unchartered territory of vulnerability. Courage comes from the Latin word cor which means “heart.” Having courage means engaging in every life situation as a blessing, meeting the challenge of each moment with trust, knowing that we are prepared for it.
