On Letting Go

If you have ever worked hard on a long term project, you may understand the attachment that comes with it. Often, completion of the project leads to feelings of loss. My breakdown and ultimate stay at a mental institution occurring shortly after completion of my first novel is no coincidence. It is painful to let go of something you have devoted so much of yourself to.

When you do not complete the project, the feeling of loss has a friend -- confusion.

Imagine working on a project -- devoting much energy to it -- then stopping (either by choice or by force) without seeing the project to its fruition. The loss is accompanied by a dizziness, a sensation that your focus is gone.

Twice in the past week this has happened to me.

Last week I decided to put down Thicker Than Water, my attempt at a third novel. The book lacked the passion of the previous two. It had moments, but I was not taken by it. And I struggled with it. While my first two novels seemed to flow out of me at whitewater pace, Thicker was more of a trickle. I decided it best to set it down and hope to come back to it at a later time.

The good news is I have an idea for a new novel -- one I am excited about. Still, there is a sense of uneasiness with letting go. I do not like not finishing.

Yesterday I discovered a work project was to be moved on. It isn't bad, really. Someone has joined us specifically to handle projects like the one I had been on. And the project itself was outside my typical arena. Still, I had devoted much of the past six months on it and discovering this emptied me.

Three years ago, the combination of the two losses might have killed me -- literally. I was already a figure of despair unable to escape the blackness. I may have committed the ultimate act of selfishness over this. Fear, loss and confusion were enemies I was ill-equipped to handle.

Today, however, I feel differently. I feel I know how to handle this.

I have a choice. I can dwell on the loss. That is unproductive. Worse -- it is a psychological and emotional cancer. It will eat at me until once again the blackness pulls me inside. Or, I can set it aside and focus on the next thing.

And that is the right thing to do.

I've already attached myself to two large projects at work. Both of these are in my work arena, meaning I control its completion and success, not someone else. My head is in these projects already. And I am excited for them.

The new book is "in development". In other words, I have decided to map out the plot and characters before I begin. I did this with my first two novels. Though I didn't follow my initial plot completely, it set a nice framework. The book will be more like my second novel -- a psychological tour of the main character as he follows a path that lead him to discoveries and choices that will ultimately define him. There will be love, sex, passion and violence throughout. I am so thrilled to begin this project.

Years ago, letting go was not possible for me. It just led to further agony. Today, I know that letting go is truly another way of saying moving on.

And, happily, I am moving on.