“Letting go is the hardest Asana” - Anonymous

Vitamix Farewell

Once upon a QVC, I bought a Vitamix (a fancy blender, in case you didn’t know). I came across a special deal whilst flicking through shopping channels in a hotel bedroom. I agonised over it for hours instead of going out and enjoying my holiday - what a numpty.

Why am I telling you this? Because I invested a lot in this gadget (I had a payment plan, FFS), I genuinely thought it would add significantly to my health and happiness. I tried it on, and it didn't quite fit. Despite this, I kept trying year after year, and it sat there, incongruous, powerfully unused. Every time I saw it, I felt inadequate; I'd never be the sort of person who made beautiful soups and smoothies.

It's been sitting on my kitchen countertop, barely touched, for ten years. Ten years! Finally, I’ve given it away.

Why did it take so long for me to get rid of it? And did I really spend a decade convincing myself I still needed it in my life?

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

Okay, so this might sound like crazy drama over a sodding blender! But getting rid of it felt kind of monumental. It’s just one of many things I held onto for a very long time. And now, it's gone.

I find it hard to let go of stuff. These are not just old socks or broken bits and bobs that are easy to chuck. I guess I'm talking about items that hold a promise of an idea or vision of a person I should have, would have or could have been.

To entertain possibilities of a ‘better’ version of myself, I kept so much crap that could have made an exit sooner. For example, padded bras that I thought would make me sexy but made me feel ridiculous, classic literature that I thought would make me more cultured but never managed to muster any inclination to read, and lavish cushions I bought because they looked fabulous in a friend’s house but looked entirely out of place in mine.

Bit by bit, I have been letting go of these things. Each cull has been an exercise in growing up, a practice in recognising and accepting the person I no longer am or want to be. It has been a long, perpetual spring clean—tidying up, letting go, and making space.

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As I sit here congratulating myself for getting rid of that blender, there are other more insidious items which creep-creep-creep their way into life, replacing the physical clutter that’s been so liberating to purge. These might include e-books and papers, podcasts, playlists, subscriptions, and a million internet browser tabs that fight for attention. They accumulate rapidly and fill a home far quicker than any clothes, gadgets, or sundries ever could, tempting me with each addition to consume more, know more, and be more.

How can we cope with this barrage of promise and stimulation? It’s hard to say no and harder still to delete and never look back. The digital hoard takes up no physical space but can encroach heavily on our time, sanity, and peace of mind.

For this reason, I’m a big fan of periodic digital detoxing. Without it, we can easily become unconscious hoarders. I’ve done my fair share of social media purging. Facebook, gone; Instagram, gone; Twitter, gone before it had a chance to rename itself. In many ways, I think it’s even more important than the material stuff, especially if you, like me, are the type to get completely sucked in.

I include myself in this digital melee. If this is just another newsletter that adds no significant value or joy, I encourage you now - why not unsubscribe?

Letting go One by One

I can’t be the only one who has a ton of baggage - physical, digital, emotional, relational - that needs to be frequently offloaded. The turn of the season inspires us to let go of the old and bring in the new. However, this decluttering process need not be saved for the New Year or the Spring Clean; it’s a perennial process. Like the continual art of yoga, it could be a regular practice - a cycle of reflection, learning, and—the most important act of all—letting go.

I'm informed by its new owner that my old Vitamix is being used every day. Result. One woman's junk is another man's treasure. If it’s not a Vitamix, what's your personal junk? You know - the stuff that’s sitting there, making you feel bad. Maybe it's an unused gym membership, a phone app you’re addicted to, a friend who drains all your energy, or a story you’ve been telling yourself your whole life.

I ask tentatively, when might be a good time to say goodbye for good?

You can do it. Letting go takes practice, step by step, one by one: an exhalation, a thought, an object; a person, a story, a belief. So that we can start to say goodbye without sadness or regret but with gratitude and liberation.

Let's practise.