Learning to Release What No Longer Serves You

Headspace Studio. Hey friends, it's Rosie here. Welcome to Radio Headspace and to Friday. So today I wanna start with the question, what are you still carrying that you don't need anymore? There's a friend, well, technically a friend of Tory's who comes to visit us once or twice a year. Now listen, I see this with love, but this person is not the easiest house guest. You know the type, the energy shifts when they arrive. Conversations have to be curated. Certain topics are off limits, unless we want to spiral into a debate over dinner. And while I know there's decades of friendship and history there, it doesn't make it easier. Here's the thing, his visits are short, five days max. And I've learned that I can say no, I've said no before, and sometimes that's the right call. But other times I say yes for Tori, for the history, for the hope that maybe it'll be different. But what gets me isn't the visit itself. It's what happens before. The minute we hear he's coming, it's like he moves into my head weeks, sometimes months before he ever sets foot into our house. I start anticipating the discomfort, rehearsing conversations, bracing for awkward moments. Will he be up before I can sneak into the kitchen and make my tea? And suddenly, he's not just a guest in our home, he's a guest in my mind, rent free for way too long. And the truth is, the stress doesn't come from the visit itself. It comes from carrying the visit before it even begins. It reminded me of a classic and well-known zen parable. Two monks are traveling together. At one point, they come across a woman who's unable to cross a river. Without hesitation, the older monk lifts her and carries her across. A few hours later, the younger monk clearly agitated, says, "Why did you carry that woman across the river? We're not supposed to touch women." And the older monk replies, "I put her down hours ago, why are you still carrying her?" That line hit me like a wave. Why are you still carrying it? Because even though the visit is short, I carry the tension long before and long after. I carry the resentment, the rehearsed conversations, the judgment I place on myself for being so affected. And I think that's what so many of us do. We carry things long after they've happened. A comment from a colleague, a text that rubbed us the wrong way. A moment that didn't go the way we hoped. And yes, sometimes we have to process it, but sometimes we're just carrying it. Because getting rid of the weight means something will change. We can't always control what happens, but we can decide what stays with us. Some things shape us, some things teach us, and some things we're just not meant to hold onto anymore. So try this for a moment. Close your eyes, breathe...