The Freedom of Letting Go
"I set her down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?"
As August arrives, many of us find ourselves standing between seasons. Summer's slower rhythm begins to fade as calendars fill, routines return, and we naturally start looking ahead.
Yet before we move into what's next, perhaps there is one question worth asking:
What am I still carrying that I no longer need?
One of the most meaningful stories shared by Podcaster David Bayer is an ancient Zen parable about two monks traveling together.
As the monks approached a river, they saw a young woman standing at the edge, unable to cross the rushing water. Without hesitation, the older monk lifted her, carried her safely across, and continued walking.
Hours later, the younger monk could no longer contain his frustration.
"We aren't supposed to touch women," he said. "How could you carry her?"
The older monk simply smiled.
"I set her down hours ago. Why are you still carrying her?"
Although simple, this story speaks to something deeply human.
Every one of us carries things long after the moment has passed.
A difficult conversation.
An old disappointment.
Words spoken in anger.
Regret over a decision.
A relationship that ended.
The pressure to be perfect.
The belief that we should have handled something differently.
The event itself may have lasted minutes, but our minds often replay it for weeks, months, or even years.
Sometimes the greatest source of our suffering isn't what happened—it is the emotional weight we continue to carry afterward.
Mindfulness gently invites us to notice this.
Not with judgment.
Not by forcing ourselves to "move on."
But with curiosity and compassion.
When we become aware of the thoughts that continually pull us back into the past, we create space to choose something different.
Letting go doesn't mean forgetting.
It doesn't mean excusing hurtful behavior or pretending painful experiences never occurred.
Instead, letting go means recognizing that carrying yesterday's burden into today will not change the past—it only steals from the present.
There is tremendous freedom in asking ourselves:
"Is this thought helping me?"
"Is this burden mine to continue carrying?"
"What would happen if I allowed myself to set it down?"
Healing rarely happens all at once; more often, it unfolds through small choices—one breath, one pause, one moment of awareness.
