Letting Go of What You Can't Control: A Shiva-Inspired Reflection

The river he did not stop

When the Ganga was ready to fall from the sky, she was too powerful for the earth to take. The story says Shiva caught her in his hair.

Notice what he did not do. He did not block the river, because the earth needed her. He did not try to turn her back, because that was never possible. He gave the force somewhere to land, let it slow down inside the coils of his hair, and then let it go in a gentler stream.

That is a useful picture for anything too big to stop. You do not have to win against it. You can decide where it lands in your life, and how much of it reaches you at once.

The poison he held

During the churning of the ocean, a poison came up that threatened every living thing. Shiva drank it. But he did not swallow it, and he did not spit it out. In the story, Parvati's hand rests on his throat and the poison stays there, turning his neck blue. That is why he is called Neelkanth.

I read this as a story about a third option between "absorb everything" and "push it onto someone else." Some things cannot be solved. They can only be carried carefully, without letting them spread. Holding something with care is not the same as being swallowed by it.

What the ash is for

Shiva is covered in bhasma, sacred ash, and the reason is not decoration. Ash is what is left when everything has finished burning. It is a daily reminder that nearly every situation, however loud, is passing. In the same tradition, he is Mahakal, the lord of time, which is another way of saying that time itself answers to him, not to our schedules and worries.

When I look at the worry I am carrying and ask how much of it will matter in a year, the answer is usually the same as the answer ash gives.

A word hiding inside the mantra

There is a reading of the word Namah, in Om Namah Shivaya, that I have come to love. Some teachers split it as "na mama," which means "not mine." Whether or not you take that as the literal origin, it fits the practice. Each repetition is a small act of putting something down. This is not mine to carry. I offer it.

A small practice for the 2 AM loop

This is simple, and it is what I actually do:

• Name the worry in one line. Writing it down helps, because it stops looping once it is on paper.
• Sort it into two columns. What is mine to do, and what is not mine. Be strict. Other people's choices go in the second column. So do outcomes you are waiting on.
• Pick one thing from the first column. Only one. Small is fine.
• Chant Om Namah Shivaya on the long exhale for a few minutes, and let "not mine" mean something for the second column.
• Leave the rest where it is.

It does not make the worry vanish. It makes it smaller, and puts it where it belongs.

Letting go is not giving up

This is the part I had to learn the hard way. Letting go does not mean you stop caring or stop doing your part. Shiva is no ascetic who has stopped engaging with the world, he is married, a father, a friend, a protector. He does what is his to do, completely. What he lets go of is the outcome.

Do your part. Hold what you must hold with care. And let the river go where it is going.