stock-photo-222740-falling-leaves I wonder how the tree feels in the fall when it must release all of its leaves—its  offspring? Does it cry and reminisce about all the moments in the spring when the leaves were young buds, or longingly recall summertime when they reached full form, or how they felt blowing on the gentle breezes all together?

I wonder because I am faced with letting go of several of my life’s creations all in one season. Even though I remember messaging a friend a year ago saying how I wanted create more joy in my life. At the time, just making the decision to change seemed like I had cleared the major hurdle. Well, here I am, marriage over, yoga studio sold, Costa Rica project complete, and, to top it off, both of my boys graduating and moving away—one to college and the other beginning his career on the other side of the country. As I let go of one thing after the other, I wonder what will remain of me. I feel like the tree must feel just after the last leaf falls. Completely naked and exposed.

Today I went back into the yoga studio, which is now my dear friend’s, to check out the new paint job. She and several volunteers were in the process of painting over everything. I walked out wanting to cry. I thought I had processed letting it go, but I did not realize that each time I returned to take a class it still looked like my studio. The complete paint job further removed it from being mine on yet another level. And, that meant one more level of letting go of something I created. Ugh!!

The yogis call this attachment and they say that attachment causes suffering. They were right. I’m suffering. Here I thought I was doing really well because not only was I meeting all of these changes head on in what I felt like was a graceful manner, I added to it by clearing out dozens of items from my home—knick knacks, clothing, books, household items I no longer loved or used.

I have officially reached my tipping point, my growth edge, the outer boundaries of my comfort zone—the point at which real and lasting transformation occurs. I know this because I now physically ache and I feel that I am walking between the layers of my life. I am no stranger to this place and always want to kick and cry a little when I find I am in it again. Then I remember the law of transformation, which is also a law of polarity (opposites). There is always a miracle in every challenge. Always! Our task is to find it.

Here is where the miracle lies. Even as I feel the ache and experience the sense of loss on so many levels, there is a deeper joy stirring. Last fall when I set my internal, and external, GPS on joy, I felt a subtle change. It was faint at first and then the pulse became louder each time I made a decision and stuck to it. So, as I sit here feeling the discomfort from letting something else go, I know that, I really am bigger than I think and capable of much more. I also know that tomorrow I will return to feeling the warmth of contentment. My days now sparkle with hope and the fresh new-paint-smell of a whitewashed life.