This holding on to old paths in life holds you back. When you hang on, how far can you fly? Even when you hold on to a ribbon of nothing, you are still holding on. You have wound ribbon around your fingers, and you hold tight to the ribbon. You hold tight the way a baby's hand holds on to whatever comes in its reach. You hold on to ideas. You hold on to the past. You hold on to ribbons of the past and flapping ribbons of the future, and you let this precise moment go, perhaps only to hold on to it later in retrospect. Let go to the winds that which belongs to the winds. Let the winds sweep your path clear. Let the branches fall. Let the winds of life prune your path so you can move forward. Let the winds blow away that which is not really here anyway and which yet holds you down.
It is as if you take a hammer and nails and batten down your life. You try to keep it safe, and safe to you may mean what has already been.
Beloveds, unfist all that which you hold on to. Unfist all you expect. Unfist all that you carry with you. Think of the baggage you carry with you and how long-standing it has been. How needless what you carry! You drag it along as if it served a worthy purpose. I tell you to let go, and still you hang on. You hold on, and you trip over all that you hold on to.
Someone make up a song of letting go, will you? There are songs of lost loves, and yet the lost loves are kept present, as if they, when all is said and done, amounted to more than your greatness anyway. All that remains are your thoughts, past thoughts about the past. Precious to you are your thoughts, yet you have read them over enough. It is time for you to write new thoughts. Clear space for new thoughts and new loves.
No more stuffing the past into drawers. Your mind is not meant to be an overstuffed file drawer. How much is enough, beloveds?
You shovel snow in the winter. Now shovel old thinking away. Let it melt in the sunshine of life. Let go, let go! Hurry it along. Hurry it gone. Trade in your old mind for new.
This clearing out is the fountain of youth so sought after. Unclog the mind. Let go of residue. Clean your windows. Unclutter your mind. Empty it so you can see. You want to see out and you want to see in.
You wash your face every day. Now wash piled-up thoughts from your mind. Wash generously. Let your mind come shining through. Find a clear slate to write on.
I will tell you this until you no longer need to hear it.
Beloveds, you have your steps to evolution piled high. You can only trip over all this clutter on your stairs. Don't go through it piece by piece. Just get a trash bag and toss it all in.
Tell Me, beloveds, what is there that you must really examine? What do you think would happen if you just tossed it out? What is your fear?
Pick up all the content on your golden stairs with your two hands and heave it.
Say, "So long, old thoughts! So long, all the shapes and sizes of you. So long, all of you that has been accumulating dust and making it difficult for me to climb. I have had enough of you. Honestly, I don't know why I have kept all of you packed so tightly so long, as if, somehow, you strengthened the stairs of my life. Of course, you don't. Of course, you never did. Of course, you hampered me. Of course, you got in my way. So long now, old thoughts so long held onto. So long."