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Letting go meditation

Letting go, in meditation, means loosening your grip on how something has to turn out. You stop holding a feeling or a thought so tightly, and let it move through. It doesn’t mean you stop caring.

“Just let it go” is easy advice to give and hard to follow, partly because it leaves out the most useful question. Let go of what, exactly? Usually it’s a demand: that someone admit you were right, that the evening go differently, that a feeling leave right now. The problem, the person and what you owe them are often still there, and some of them still deserve your care.

Where it comes from

Michael Singer teaches letting go as a daily practice. When something stirs you up, his instruction in The Untethered Soul is to “relax and release”, instead of closing around it. Each time you do, he says, a little of what you were holding leaves.

Tara Brach makes a distinction that keeps letting go from turning into giving up. In Radical Acceptance she writes, “Radical Acceptance is not resignation.” Accepting what you feel doesn’t make you passive. It’s the first step toward acting wisely.

Acceptance and commitment therapy, a form of psychotherapy, draws the same line. It treats acceptance as actively making room for what you feel, rather than fighting it. That’s not a goal in itself. It frees you to act on what you value.

Letting go of the demand, keeping the care

Here’s what that can look like. Imagine you’re washing the dishes after dinner. Your hands are on a plate, and your mind is still on something someone said twenty minutes ago. You’ve answered them three different ways now, each better than what you really said. By the time you reach the glasses, you’re winning an argument no one else is part of.

Two things are tangled together here. One is the wish to win the replay: the perfect sentence, the moment they finally admit you were right. You may never get that. The other is what’s still real. You could ask them tomorrow what they meant. You could tell them how it landed. You might owe them an apology for what you said back.

Letting go of the first can leave the second free. You can loosen your hold on the argument in your head without agreeing that what happened was fine.

Turn it around, too. Suppose you’re the one who said the careless thing, and you spend the evening telling yourself you’re a terrible person. It can feel as though that suffering is doing the work of repair. It isn’t. The other person still hasn’t heard from you. Letting go of the need for a final verdict on yourself can make room for the apology you can actually give.

How to let go

Some ways, from the shortest:

  • Soften the grip. Notice where you’re holding it in your body: the jaw, the shoulders, the hands. On a breath out, let that place soften a little. You don’t have to make the feeling go away.
  • Let it pass through. When the replay starts again, notice it as a replay. Let it run without adding to it, the way you’d let a car pass.
  • Name the demand. Finish this sentence: “I am trying to make this happen.” Often it’s something no one can give you, like a different past.
  • Find what still matters. Then finish a second sentence: “Even if it doesn’t happen, this still matters.” Maybe it’s the friendship. Maybe it’s giving people accurate information.
  • Choose one thing you can do. It could be a conversation, a boundary, an apology, or a decision to wait until tomorrow.

These are questions to explore, not answers to force. Sometimes the thing you wanted is exactly what deserves defending.

Back at the sink, the comment still happened, and no sentence will fix the whole evening. You decide to talk to them tomorrow. Then someone asks where the containers go, and there’s food to put away and a person beside you drying the dishes. You can answer them.

If it doesn’t go as you expect

The feeling stays. That’s normal. Letting go of a demand doesn’t promise relief. You can still be hurt and decide not to rehearse the argument again. You can still be embarrassed and make the apology.

You’re calm, but not settled. A calm voice doesn’t prove everything inside is resolved. A gentle sentence can still be meant to wound. It helps to ask what you’re trying to do with the next thing you say, not only whether you’re calm.

It isn’t fine, and shouldn’t be. Letting go isn’t putting up with everything. Sometimes care means a firm no, a correction or leaving. Allowing yourself to feel something doesn’t make it acceptable.

An apology isn’t a purchase. Saying sorry doesn’t buy forgiveness. The other person’s response is theirs. What you did is still yours.

Some things can’t be repaired. A conversation may never happen. You may have to live without an explanation. There’s no need to call that loss good. You can miss what was possible and still ask what deserves your care now.

In these meditations

  • Devotion to Self offers up what you’re holding, a handful at a time, and rests afterward.
  • Nothing Held lets what comes pass through, without holding on to it.
  • The Thirteenth Point is mostly music, with a few words, and sets down what you carry one thing at a time.
  • All of Letting Go, in one playlist.

When you can’t stop going over something, Meditation for overthinking is a good next read.

Further reading

  • Michael A. Singer, The Untethered Soul (New Harbinger, 2007), on relaxing and releasing what comes up in you instead of closing around it.
  • Tara Brach, Radical Acceptance (Bantam, 2003), on why accepting what you feel is not resignation or passivity.
  • Steven C. Hayes and others, “Acceptance and commitment therapy: Model, processes and outcomes” (Behaviour Research and Therapy, 2006).