There’s something very human in the tug-of-war between wanting to understand what went wrong—especially when life hands us something that rubs hard against our deepest preferences—and the counsel we so often hear: release, let go, move on.
We carry “stuff” we wish didn’t still haunt us. A sharp word. A betrayal. A disappointment that lingers longer than it “should.” When grudges or resentments surface too often, they can start to take on antique value, like an heirloom we never meant to polish and protect, but somehow keep dusting off and displaying in our minds.
There are thousands of ways sages, therapists, and teachers suggest letting go: ritual ceremonies, talk therapy, journaling, prayer, somatic practices, meditation, yoga, and more. And it’s important to recognize: working through true trauma is a very different matter than simply being ticked off at someone who did us wrong once. Real trauma deserves—and requires—serious, sustained care.
But for the everyday slights and lingering resentments that many of us wrestle with, maybe the truth is that both impulses have their place. We ruminate, sometimes too much, in an effort to understand, to gain wisdom, to find closure. And yet, do we ever truly let go of anything? Or do we simply loosen our grip, soften our stance, shift how much space it takes up in us?
The art may lie in choosing which voice to listen to on any given day. Some days, the voice of inquiry—asking what is this trying to teach me?—is worth honoring. Other days, the voice of release—can I set this down, even for a moment?—is the wiser companion.
Somatic practices, meditation, and yoga can each help us tune in to that choice. Movement might shake something loose in the body. Breath might soften a thought that has felt unyielding. Silence might remind us that we are more than our stories.
Maybe the deeper lesson is that there isn’t a single right answer. The yoga world itself has been slowly learning this, moving away from rigid cues and one-size-fits-all prescriptions, and recognizing that what supports one person might not support another. More and more, there’s emphasis on curiosity, adaptability, functionality, and trust in our own inner compass. In that light, the question isn’t whether to understand or to let go once and for all, but how to notice what’s needed right now.
Sometimes the really big hurts change shape with time. What once felt like a heavy rock pressing on the heart may, years later, shrink to something more like a little stone in your shoe: still there, but lighter, easier to carry, maybe tucked in the back pocket of memory rather than weighing down every step. Reflection may help us soften into that change; release may help us live with it more lightly.
The gift of practice is having tools that invite us to pause, listen, and choose with a little more clarity and kindness—which voice to honor, which weight to carry, and which one to finally set down.
