floating on

The day after we walked around the beautifully lit temples and listened to the Wat Pasaviet novices chanting, the staff and  some of our of volunteers went on a sunset boat cruise down the Mekong River. 

We ate sticky rice, listened to Xeng Lee sing, and watched the sun set as we let our kratongs {handmade banana leaf boats decorated with marigolds} sail off. 

But this post has nothing to do with the cruise. 

This post is actually about letting go-- of kratongs and everything else. 

One of the many lessons I have learned over the past five years has been the art of letting go. And I needed to learn it, because I really fucking sucked at it for a very long time.

I held onto people who didn't love all the worst parts of me alongside the best parts. I held onto relationships impossible from the start. I held onto mistakes and disappointments and skill sets I don't have. 

I've found on my journeys around the world a new strength in letting go. Of what people think or expect my life should look like at 26. Of friends who don't love me as deeply as I love them, because I give everything to my friends. Of relationships that were beautiful and everything you hoped for and incredibly flawed but forgiving and the kind of stuff people talk about when they talk about soulmates but end in a sort of tragic-wordless-heartbreaking way. Of things that once were disappointing, but now seem like dodged bullets. 

And, I promise, you can let go of all these things knowing that people who love you better and more wholly are waiting. Friends who know and understand you. Adventures better than those you so meticulously planned. You can let go of all those things, whatever they are knowing that what never happened was not meant to. Knowing that self-paved paths are filled with more adventure and character growth. 

You're better letting it float on, off in its own direction. Whatever 'it' is to you. I know I am better for letting it go and letting it all float on.