As I step outside my bubble, settling into this new home, I realize fall is here. I hear the wind in the trees from my window and see the leaves falling. It reminds me that they let go—of the fruit they bear, which feeds animals through the winter; of their branches, which mamas and babies use for shelter and nests; of their leaves, which return to the earth. All of this is detaching—letting go.
When I think of these two words—letting go and detachment—they feel like the same thing. But as I sit with them, I realize they aren’t.
When I think of letting go, I imagine pieces separating. It feels like the beginning of something painful. Letting go stirs emotions, thoughts, and resistance. It’s the internal process before the action. I think about the things I need to let go of, and that very thought brings up feelings of grief, fear, and uncertainty. Letting go is the start of something, the journey, and boy, is it tough.
Detachment, though, feels like the result.
When I think of detachment, I think of peace. I feel lighter, looser, freer—open and clear. My muscles loosen, and surrender arrives. There’s no more fight, no more holding on. It is complete.
But letting go is something that happens over and over again. It’s not a one-and-done deal. As long as we’re attached to things, we’ll always need to let go, or… accept.
As humans, we attach. We have to. We attach to love because we need connection. We attach to homes because we need shelter. We attach to food because we need nourishment. We attach to cars because we need to get around.
But we also crave more than we need. We want nice things. And that’s when attachment gets tricky. When my need to attach is strong but unfulfilled, I look for something – anything – to fill the void. That’s where addictions can begin, in the desperate need to cling to something when the essential things feel lacking.
When choosing whether to let go or accept, a few things happen:
- I see where I’m misaligned, through confusion, through strong emotions, through pain, through struggle.
- I sit with it, contemplating what decisions need to be made. This can take time—through meditation, prayer, and alone time.
- I prepare myself, moving through the world looking for answers—through community, therapy, supportive friends, loved ones, family, trauma recovery.
- I connect with my body, fueling, and nourishing it through yoga, exercise, food, water, and supplements.
Through this process, I learn more about myself. I see who I am. And when I’m ready, I act.
Taking action brings acceptance or surrender into full detachment.
Detachment means it is done. Severed. Cut. No emotional reaction. Unattached. Done.
You’ve considered every option, every scenario, every possibility. Detachment can take lifetimes—or not. But to hear and trust your truth takes practice. It’s the practice of these steps above. And sometimes, the knowing is clouded by years of not being heard or seen—by years of abuse and trauma that disconnected you from yourself.
Through this process, you reconnect. You rediscover your authentic self. And once you know who you truly are, detachment and acceptance come more easily.
It’s a process, and it takes time. It’s not magic. Some of us have years of trauma and disconnection to heal from, and it takes time to trust who we are again. Others may have been blessed with a clearer knowing.
If you are amidst confusion, struggle, or pain, Torus Center and Therapy team welcomes you through our doors. We are here to help you no matter what stage you are at.
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