Live Lives of Ease

If we really could control others, our burdens would be heavy. Our work would never, ever, be finished. Why then do we think we want the power to control others? For years I pondered this. I think it’s because we think that if others do as we ask, it’s a sign of love, and love is what we fear losing most of all. When others give in to our way of thinking, it’s because they love us unconditionally — or so we tell ourselves. Only then can we rest and feel secure.

The fallacy of this runs so deep. Others doing our will has nothing to do with love. They simply may be tired of the battle. How much more serene our lives would be if we gave up the battle too. Deciding to detach is our invitation to live lives of ease. Someone else may not give up the battle, but let’s do it ourselves.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 166

Think of All the Time You’ll Save!

The reason detachment is rewarding is that it gives us so much relief. It allows us to thoroughly relax our bodies and our minds. It makes us feel reborn. And it gives us extra time to play for a change, to plant flowers perhaps, or read books, reconnect with old or new friends, take up painting or weaving or birding. It’s amazing how much free time we have when we remove our attention from the many people and situations that didn’t cotton to having our attention anyway.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 145

Steps for Detachment

We detach in steps. The first step is to observe but say nothing. The second step is to say a quiet prayer and then avert our eyes, placing our mind with God and some details of our own life. The third step is to get busy, to move on, and to thank God for giving us the willingness to let others do what they need to do. All these steps will need repeated practice; at least I have found that to be the case. But each time I have walked myself through them, I have felt empowered and hopeful, and that has made me willing to take the walk the next time, too.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 141

Their Own Free Will

It makes our own lives so much simpler when we let those who walk among us do whatever they want to do. Now, of course, when our offspring are young, we can’t let them be unsupervised. But it’s folly to think that we will be able to control their every move. Their own free will will surface quite regularly, just as ours continues to do. But our acknowledging that it’s okay for them and all others to listen to guiding voices different from our own results in many opportunities for gratitude. Being grateful for even the tiny experiences that we have with letting others be, letting others do that which they feel called to do, even if it proves to be wrong in the long run, is the breath of fresh air we deserve.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 134

Freedom from Blame

Choosing to forego blame actually feels very good. Taking responsibility for what we have done and letting others off the hook when they aren’t ready to do the same is really very freeing. Having made a practice of letting others do and be whatever appeals to them is a gift to ourselves and to them, a gift that simply changes every aspect of our journey.

We are here to watch and learn. We are here to bless and witness. We are here to offer guidance when sought. We are here to share our experience, strength, and hope. Our purpose is never to blame. Everyone is stuck in an old perspective, a place where growth can’t happen, if we are caught in the web of blaming.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 133

Suffocation

For decades I have pondered why so many feel that without a life partner they are nothing. The answer may vary for different people, but I think at one time in my life it was because I felt invisible, even among friends, and I wanted one person, at the very least, to make me feel important. So when that person showed up, I clung. My attachment suffocated him and the relationship. I was a very slow learner; I suffocated many before I learned the value of detachment. Now I treasure being able to let God give me all the comfort and security I need.

— Karen Casey, Let Go Now, p. 125