A guide to letting things go, so you can move on and move up
There was a time where I lived in a fairly downtrodden boarding house in a downtrodden city in the Midwest. As it turns out, the time I spent there was cut short. That wasn’t because I found a better place, but because that place had bedbugs and a few other “quirks”. You know, that kind of place.
Needless to say, that was a “transitional” period in my life — to put it nicely.
During that time, I was the proud owner of a Pace bus pass. There didn’t seem to be anything cool about the bus pass at that time. After all, I had previously owned a car, so this was a step down. What was cool about having a bus pass is that it afforded me the opportunity to have a few memorable conversations with people I wouldn’t have otherwise talked to.
One such conversation was with an older gentleman. He was on the latest of several rebounds in his lifelong battle with addiction. It’s basically what he led our conversation with. I didn’t get as much of his background as I’d have liked. But part of his journey involved getting back to a good place with his family, and opening up about mistakes that led him astray clearly weighed on him those many years later.
What led me to talk to him was my own heavy emotional weight of the day: a heated argument with my long-time girlfriend. She had a certain way of saying the kinds of things that really hurt me — on a regular basis. The relationship had been toxic for a long time, and had come to head now that we were living apart from each other. I’m certain that this was somewhat visible on my face as I got on the bus that day.
As I sat next to the old-timer, we gave the usual “hello” nod. I must’ve sighed or something, because the old man inquired as to whether it had been “one of those days” — or something like that. I replied that it had. His reply was that more often than not, it seems to be “one of those days”. Or at least, we tend to remember more of them, because they take more of our energy to get through. We rarely remember the easy things.
If it Don’t Apply…
As I unloaded my troubles to this generous old man, he began to smile. That smile hit its peak when I voiced my frustration at an accusation that my girlfriend had made of me. She accused me of cheating on her. It was blatantly not true. I’d never cheated on her — nor had I come close. I’d never cheated on anyone.
I’m certain she knew this, but she made the accusation anyway. I fell for it, and got dragged into an argument where I was forced to defend my character as a whole, while she sat in the seat of judgment.
There’s a lot of the conversation with this old man that I’ve forgotten over time. But one thing I haven’t forgotten was his advice. He said “if it don’t apply, let it fly” — meaning if someone is wrong about you, don’t take it to heart. Don’t internalize it or grapple with it. Don’t let it whip you up into a furious and desperate attempt to disprove their accusations. They’re wrong about you. You know it. You know yourself. Be confident in that, and proceed accordingly.
…Let It Fly
So often, we get dragged into defending ourselves against accusations because we believe that deep down, on some level, there’s some truth to them. But if we are secure in our knowledge of ourselves, we’re less likely to let things get to us.
Let’s do a quick thought experiment: If someone were to yell emphatically at you that you had 4 arms, how much would you fret about that? Not much. You know that you only have 2 arms. It should be clear to anyone with eyes that you don’t have 4 arms. So that claim is so obviously false that you will spend zero time or mental effort being anxious about that person’s inaccurate claim.
Now imagine someone said that you were selfish. That might be enough to get under anyone’s skin. It calls into question your entire character. It seems like you’d need to voice a strong defense, right? But my old friend would advise you “if it don’t apply, let it fly.”
Ask yourself: am I selfish? In my own honest appraisal of my motives and my actions — am I selfish? If you honestly evaluate yourself, whatever conclusion you come to will be one you’re comfortable with — even if it means you have work to do on yourself.
Know Thyself
The result of becoming this self-aware means letting go of having to argue with others about who you are. If someone tells you that you’re selfish, and you know you’re more selfish than you’d like, you can stay calm. You can calmly acknowledge that you are struggling with being selfish, and you still have work to do. But if you’ve done the work, and know that you’re not selfish, you can also stay calm and simply tell the person: I know myself well, and I know that I’m not a selfish person. I guess it just doesn’t seem that way to you.
And that’s it. That’s the trick. It goes back to Socrates, over 2,000 years ago. The temple at Delphi had the inscription “know thyself” above its entrance. That’s the most impactful single piece of advice that anyone can use. It’s also a task that will take an entire lifetime to complete — and many people don’t ever complete it.
If “know thyself” is the most impactful piece of advice, the old bus-rider’s advice comes in a close second. You can put them together into a single, elegant piece of advice. Know yourself, and don’t allow others’ judgments of you to override that knowledge.
If you can do that, almost nothing will get to you. Your path will be about becoming the best person you can be, based on your honest evaluation of yourself.