It was a Sunday afternoon. Me and a buddy were on the beach enjoying all the scenery that it had to offer. The waves and sounds, the surfers, fishermen casting and hooking, pelicans swooping down into the water quickly making their fill. A relaxing site as we peeked around. We sat and shared some funny stories about our youth, about our lives.
There was this one crazy story about me and a kite that stuck out in my mind. After I told it I had a new perception about a little adventure when I was young. I was about 15 old and I was with a childhood friend named Johnny. This one day and we smoked from a pipe what little we had left as we were growing bored. It was a windy day, a stormy wind. There was no rain but a hard blowing gusty wind. I’m not sure which one of us came up with the idea to fly a kite but the idea became real after we bought the kite. We set it up this large blue and yellow stealth like kite as it made an easy launch and flew quickly into the sky. I had the kite way up there. It was flapping and diving with the terrorizing wind. I was holding and controlling the kite by the end of its spool.
I dropped the spool and the kite started to plummet. There was no longer any tension from the string to the kite. I ran after the tumbling spool, “I Don’t wanna lose this kite” I exclaimed to myself. I couldn’t reach the spool so instead I grabbed just the line of string. As i grabbed it, the kite became tense again with wind and pulled the string through my fingers. I wrestled with the line as it tore through my skin.
At that point my friend Johnny started Yelling “Let Go, Let go!!” he saw what was happening with the string going through my fingers. The last thing I wanted to do was to lose this Kite! I struggled and struggled with that line as it slipped through my fingers. Again I heard Johnny yelling, “Let Go , Let Go that Kite!” I let go and looked at my hands. My fingers were cut up and bleeding. It wasn’t until I saw the blood I realized I was in much pain.
As I was telling the story at the beach I was again looking at my hands. My buddy turned and looked me straight in the eye and told me i need to keep listening to my friend Johnny….”Let Go, Let Go!” It was there and then I realized, even though so much pain at that time I cut my fingers, the lesson of letting go was to come to fruition years after. It was a gift, given to me at that time. I can still hear Johnny’s voice, as if it was yesterday, carrying the message, “Let Go, Let Go!”
This lesson of letting go applies to my life in recovery as I have learned that holding onto bad experiences only causes more pain. Being aware of Letting Go and Letting God helps when life’s harder situations and circumstances can be overcome and I don’t need to hold onto them.
Thank you for taking the time to read this post and I only hope you get something from this.
I am currently working on a novella and would like to invite you to read one scene I have from the novella, “A Scene On The Train”