What will you let go of is my topic for this latest post. It is inspired by Marcus Amaker, an American poet most famous for being the first poet laureate of Charleston, South Carolina. He has an impressive resume that ranges from poetry, operas, music, and graphic design. You can visit his website here.
A friend of mine gave me a copy of Marcus Amaker’s book, Hold What Makes You Whole. I finally opened up the book and started reading his work.
I found this poem of his buried midway in the book. It made me think about letting go of many things that I held dear that perhaps held me prisoner.
Eye Contact by Marcus Amaker
Throw something away
you thought you couldn't
live without. Turn its
memory-triggered touch
into trash. Remind yourself
You have outgrown the past.
Look the future in the eyes &
make it uncomfortable. Keep
diamond recollections on
your mind and wear a crown
then throw the crown away. There
are things you call holy that
are praying to be destroyed.
I’m not one for resolutions because they are easy to set and hard to keep in a shifting world. But letting go of baggage gets my attention.
When you hold on to treasure, there is always the risk that it turns into more than what it is. It is only after reading his poem several times, that I understand my tendency to put perhaps too much sentimental value on things that I have collected. They are relics of artificial importance, proverbial balls and chains to the past. As Marcus says, memory-triggered trash. They resist the temptation to be forgotten because that is where their power lies.
A U-Haul storage building in Milton, Florida waits for me
My sister in Florida has been the caretaker of the items I decided to keep from my life in California but chose not to bring to Europe.
Five years later, that storage location has cost me a small fortune. I could have replaced everything in there once or twice for what I have paid to maintain those things in a state of suspended sentimentality.
There was a part of me that held on to all of that stuff. I wanted to have something left in order to begin again. However, I also thought of those items as the last remaining elements of my life.
As the poem reminded us, many things I called holy were praying to be destroyed. I asked myself, “What will you let go?”
Over the last few weeks, I started to make mental lists of what am I holding onto for the sake of its memory.
When I think about those objects in that U-Haul storage container in Milton, Florida, part of me never wants to touch them again. They are beautiful relics of the past. They anchor me to something that was and can never return.
What will you let go?
With my sister’s encouragement, I decided I needed to find a home for many of those things. They could have served a purpose to someone all these years. Instead, they were wrapped in a box in a storage building in Milton, Florida.
When I’m anxious about the future, I grab onto one of my relics and cling to it to avoid the anxiety. For me, it’s always a temporary solution. But I know I’m most alive when I’m uncomfortable and unsure of what’s next.
So I ask you, what will you let go? Are you holding onto relics or anchors that limit your ability to run freely into what’s next in 2024 and perhaps scare the hell out of it and yourself?
Do you have a basement full of things that could be useful and valuable to someone else but instead draw out bitter-sweet parts of yourself when you see them? What will you let go?
Are there diamond crowns in your closet that you are afraid to throw away?
As I begin 2024, I want to believe that learning is a gift. The relic is only one page of the textbook. I no longer wish my relics to have power over me. I will pass them on to someone else who could use the lesson in 2024.
As always, the question remains, “What will you let go?”
Grateful for 2023 and hopeful for 2024.
I want to thank Marcus Amaker for the inspiration for this post. Thank you for being a gifted writer, Marcus.
I want to thank Ann for gifting me Amaker’s beautiful book.
Lastly, I thank you, my readers, and I wish you a wonderful 2024 full of amazing things that you could not have imagined for yourself!
Always with love,
Luke