My first Latihan, letting go from the body
Let go. Just let go. It's become such a popular saying. Like it's just something you decide to do. And as a mindset shift, it can definitely work.
But sometimes it just doesn't work like that. It's just not that simple. In my work, the foundation of letting go is Latihan, a practice I discovered over two decades ago. It's a practice rooted in the body that extends to your whole being.
Following the Impulse
I was standing in a living room, the shades drawn against the broiling afternoon Arizona sun. The facilitator's voice was soft, unhurried. Close your eyes. That was first. Soften your body. That came second. And just do nothing.
Out of the speakers, a twinkling sound of ambient music. What? my mind said. This is stupid.
Notice, he said, when you do nothing, all the things that are actually going on in your body.
Follow the impulse for movement. What impulse? My mind, still talking. But then I noticed I was rocking, gently. Then I heard my heart beating. Then I noticed I wanted to yawn. I let out a sigh.
If you're not sure whether what you're feeling is a real impulse, or just your mind trying to direct things, you wait. I waited. My arms wanted to stretch out. I noticed the desire to squat down. So I did it. If the same impulse comes back, follow it. But if you're still not sure, you wait again, until it returns once more.
I opened my eyes and looked around the room. Everyone else was in their own space. There was a deep peace in the room. A relaxation. The facilitator spoke: That's the practice. Gaining real certainty about the difference between what your body wants to do on its own, and what your thinking mind is trying to make happen.
I laid down. Waited. My arms drifted upward. Was that a body impulse, or my mind? But I noticed the way I was moving was different.
A wave of feeling moved through me. Rage.
Give it permission, the facilitator said.
I coughed. And then out it came. A loud roar. My fists punched the mat. I let the rage move me. I said whatever came.
And then it broke into grief. I cried, deep, sobbing. More twinkling ambient music. My body wanted to curl up on its side.
Then the grief ended.
I lay there, soft, until I had an impulse to get up. I went outside. The sun had started to set. I stood and looked at the sky, pastel pinks and oranges against a deepening blue.
My whole body felt deeply relaxed, every cell vibrating with aliveness. The tension was gone. A peace moved through me, a oneness, and it came entirely from within, not from anyone or anything outside me.
That's what I discovered that day. The very thing I'd been searching for, in men, in relationships, in connection with someone else, was already here, inside me, the whole time. I just hadn't met it yet.
What Letting Go Actually Means
There's an inherent wisdom in the body. It already knows what needs to happen next, it will show you, if you let it. That's what I didn't understand before that day, not really. I thought letting go was something I'd have to figure out, decide, choose. But this is the very essence of not-doing. Just waiting. Just following the impulse, wherever it leads, letting yourself unfurl and express the deepest truth.
What This Makes Possible
Intimacy comes from the Latin intimus, meaning innermost. Before it ever meant closeness with another person, it meant closeness with your own depths, your own innermost self.
You can't offer someone your innermost self if you've never met it. I assert that the magnetic intimacy and connection we want, especially with our partners, begins with a willingness to let go, to drop into the body, and be with it.
This is the quality I bring into sessions with my clients. Not a technique to perform, but the same invitation I received that day in Arizona: there's wisdom in your body that already knows what to do. Let it show you how to let go.
Are you ready to discover a new way to let go?
Let's talk.