Cut the ties that are weighing you down.
You (actually) know exactly what’s holding you down. You must acknowledge it and brutally sever the ties.
WARNING: This is not easy. It even contains graphic images that you might not be able to un-see. If you’re looking for the quick and easy fix, this is not it and I’d recommend to stop reading now.
Let’s say you’re a hot air balloon. The gas catches fire as you pull the cord and flames shoot up into the belly of the balloon. You rise up. At first, it’s a lumbering process and you wonder how you’re ever going to get off the ground. But the great ball of heat expands and you lift up and away. You leave the firm ground you know so well and you’re airborne.
So far, so good, right?
As you ascend, you feel a weight that’s more than what you intuitively believe should be there. You look over the edge of the basket and you see what’s weighing you down. You whip your head back up as fast as you can as if a child hoping the boogeyman didn’t see her. It’s that scary.
What’s hanging below? What’s holding on to ropes below your basket with a grip so tight you can feel the pressure on the individual strands of rope. What’s down there?
What’s holding you back on your ascent to who you want to be? Is it a person? A client? Even a friend? Maybe a job, a daily habit that you just can’t seem to kick.
It’s part of the past (and apparently an annoying part of your future) and it needs to drop in order for you to rise any higher. It’s not going to go easily or quietly. For me, they’re climbing up their ropes and trying to get into the basket. I don’t have too many weapons to ward them off so I slap them with a big wicker broom (like they use to beat rugs–hey, I didn’t ask for this vision, it’s just how I see it!). But it’s not enough. They smile as they know they have a firm grip and they’re not going to go so easily. If I hit them and hit them, I get tired and think about giving up, but as I keep going, they descend somewhat.
But they know the game. They’ll just wait until I’m at a point where I’m tired or vulnerable and they’ll slowly slither back up and be a part of my life again.
It’s time to sever your future from your past.
They’re not going to give up. Ever. I know that. The battle has become a part of your existence and you’re not even sure what it would be like if you didn’t have your constant struggle with the demons from below. It’s just become a part of who you are.
But in order to move on, to ascend to heights you’ve never seen or even imagined, you’re going to need to cut those ropes. The slapping and hitting is tiring and temporary. They know it, too. They smile and snicker and know you probably don’t have the strength or guts to permanently sever those ties.
You do. You must.
It doesn’t need to be an event with big fanfare. Of course, you can do that if it’s your style. You can scream and shout and celebrate, nothing wrong with that. Or you can work on that rope with a fine knife and slice through the strands of rope slowly and deliberately. Soon, you’re ready and it’s down to the very last fibers. Below, they know it, they can feel the strength of the connection weakening and they sense the end.
Cut the ties of what’s holding you down. It’s painful because you’re used to it, because it’s what you know. It’s you of the past and you of the present, but it needs to die to give birth to the new you. Slice through it and let it fall through the skies to its death unseen below. You are done with that part of your life and it needs to be a clean break. It’s time.
You’re not going to be used to the lightness you will feel as you rise up to heights you didn’t even know existed. With this weight off of you, you’re more nimble and quick, brilliant and savvy. As you gain speed and altitude, you might notice other stragglers who are trying to hold on. They’re not as big as the ones that held you down for so long, but they’re slowing down your progress nonetheless. Now you have your knife and you know what to do with it. It’s no longer emotional, you just cut and let them go. “Bye bye,” you whisper quietly as they fall from your view.
You might shed a tear of sadness to see them go but these tears are quickly replaced with tears of joy and anticipation as where you’re going is so much greater than where you’ve been.