Let Go

We always cleave to something-people, things, places, memories etc. The act of cleaving is part of the vital stability of the universe; forces like cohesion, electromagnetism, weak force, gravity and human bonds all point to the fact that it is a natural thing.

In the sphere of human relationships, we must cleave at times and let go at others. We can't forever (as kids) cry at a favorite puppy who died. We can't keep on dwelling on past amours and crushes; we can't live in a fantasy world of our own making.

Yet despite all these, humans cleave on to memories-good ones and bad ones; they seem to stick to our consciousness like glue. They seem to be us, they form part of us and yet they were not really US. Pain and suffering seem also hard to let go for some, joys immeasurable and fond memories of childhood still remain for some. They are almost forgotten treasuries of great things, found somewhere in that bend around the corner.

William Wordsworth, an English Romantic poet carefully expressed this sentiment in his poem on "Intimations". He spoke of his childhood as some sort of a past yet accessible to the present.
While it is true that "the child is father of the man", the man can also be the father of the child. He can be the guide to his own past; he can look back at it and consider those happy days. He cannot forever stare at the image in the spring and constantly ponder on it.

He must look forward and let go of the past. It may be hard, but it must be done. The man is still father of that child inside him. He can always tell himself that the pains of childhood or its glorious moments of fun and laughter can be seen side by side with the man he has now become.