Holding on Loosely Opening My Hands, Lightening My Load, and Seeing Something Else by Dana Knox Wright - Carpenter's Son Publishing/Clovercroft Publishing

Holding on Loosely Opening My Hands, Lightening My Load, and Seeing Something Else by Dana Knox Wright - Carpenter's Son Publishing/Clovercroft Publishing

Pub Date Aug 24 2021

Sometimes books arrive at the right moment. I don't know if this happens to you, but there are seasons where everything you hold onto hits you really hard. Your children, your plans, even the way things should be. And right then, this book appears.

Dana Knox Wright is a writer from Texas (right next to my state), a mom of three grown children, who at fifty (I'm almost reaching that age myself) decided to start letting go of fear. And no, she's not one of those who tells you "just let go" as if it were easy. She's the type of woman who sits down, keeps you company, and tells you how she has managed to open her hands when everything in them felt heavy.

The premise is simple but necessary: we come into the world with our hands closed, we learn to grab, to hold on, to control. And sometimes what we hold onto ends up suffocating us. Dana discovered this suddenly when she recognized that her tendency to possess and control was completely opposite to the example of Jesus. And from there, with an honesty that is sometimes uncomfortable, she tells stories of what she has let go of: her children, prejudices, fear, youth, the need for approval. Does it sound a bit like the themes of several women's book clubs? Yes, I remembered them too.

The best thing about this book is that it doesn't give a study, a workshop, or a lecture. Dana writes like someone having a conversation, with that warmth of an older friend who has lived enough that she doesn't have to pretend. The chapters are short, ideal for reading one before bed and thinking about it for a while. When someone tells me something personal, I recognize that there is laughter, there is crying (I read that more than a few have teared up), and there is that feeling of "how does she know what I'm going through if she doesn't even know me?"

One image I loved (because it has happened to me in this desert and maybe that's why I identified with it) was that during a drought in Texas, while everything was withering, Dana noticed a single flower (a zinnia, go Google it, I'll wait) that was clinging to life. And she understood that we can cling to the drought and let it dry out our souls (sighs), or we can let it go and walk, knowing that droughts don't last forever. I hope you think about this if, like me, you live in the desert and also, like the author, like us, you LOVE to see little flowers clinging to life.

That said, don't look here for deep theology or a step-by-step system. Dana writes from experience, from what she has lived, and that is precisely what gives the book its strength. It's a book to be read with the heart, not with a pencil ready to underline new truths (although there are some). Also, she describes herself as someone who learned to let go of fear at fifty, so if you're younger, maybe some things won't resonate with you yet. But when they do, you'll be grateful you read it.

In summary: Holding On Loosely is for when you feel your hands can't carry anymore. For mothers letting go of children, for perfectionists letting go of control, for all of us who need permission to live with our hands more open. It's a reminder that letting go is not losing; it's making space for what's coming. And that sometimes, the bravest way to love is to open your hands.

If you need a hug in the form of a book and someone to tell you "I've been through that too, and it's possible," this is your book. Don't read it fast. Better yet, read it with a cup of tea, to be consistent with your desire to let go, hehe.

A veces los libros llegan en el momento exacto. No sé si te pasa, pero hay temporadas donde todo lo que agarras te pega muy fuerte. Los hijos, los planes, hasta la forma en que deberían ser las cosas. Y justo ahí aparece este libro.

Dana Knox Wright es una escritora de Texas (justo pegadito a mi estado), mamá de tres hijos ya adultos, que a los cincuenta (ya estoy casi alcanzando esa edad) decidió empezar a soltar el miedo. Y no, no es de esas que te dicen "suelta y ya" como si fuera fácil. Ella es del tipo de mujer del que se sienta, te acompaña y te cuenta cómo ha hecho para abrir las manos cuando todo en ellas le pesaba.

La premisa es sencilla pero necesaria: venimos al mundo con las manos cerradas, aprendemos a agarrar, a retener, a controlar. Y a veces eso que agarramos nos ahoga. Dana lo descubrió de golpe cuando reconoció que su tendencia a poseer y controlar era completamente opuesta al ejemplo de Jesús. Y desde ahí, con honestidad que incomoda a veces, va contando historias de lo que ha soltado: los hijos, los prejuicios, el miedo, la juventud, la necesidad de aprobación. ¿Te suena un poquito de los temas de varios clubs de lectura para mujeres? sí, yo también los recordé.

Lo mejor del libro es que no da un estudio, un taller o una cátedra. Dana escribe como quien conversa, con esa calidez de una amiga mayor que ya vivió suficiente para no tener que aparentar. Los capítulos son cortos, ideales para leer uno antes de dormir y quedarte pensando un poquito. Cuando a mi alguien me cuenta algo personal, reconozco que hay risas, hay llanto (leo por ahí que más de uno ha lagrimeado) y hay esa sensación de "¿cómo sabe ella lo que vivo si ni me conoce?".

Una imagen que me encantó (porque me ha pasado en este desierto y quizá por eso me identifiqué) fue que durante una sequía en Texas, mientras todo se marchitaba, Dana notó una sola flor (un zinnia, ve a googlearla, te espero) que se aferraba a la vida. Y entendió que podemos aferrarnos a la sequía y dejar que nos seque el alma (suspiros), o podemos soltarla y caminar, sabiendo que las sequías no duran para siempre. Espero que lo pienses si como yo vives en el desierto y también como la autora, como nosotras AMAS ver florecitas aferrandose a la vida.

Eso sí, no busques aquí teología profunda o un sistema paso a paso. Dana escribe desde la experiencia, desde lo que ha vivido, y eso es justo lo que le da fuerza. Es un libro para leerse con el corazón, no con el lápiz de subrayar verdades nuevas (aunque algunas hay). Además, ella misma se describe como alguien que aprendió a soltar el miedo a los cincuenta, así que si eres más joven, quizá algunas cosas aún no te resuenen. Pero cuando te resuenen, vas a agradecer haberlo leído.

En resumen: Holding On Loosely es para cuando sientes que tus manos ya no pueden cargar más. Para madres que sueltan hijos, para perfeccionistas que sueltan control, para todos los que necesitamos permiso para vivir con las manos más abiertas. Es un recordatorio de que soltar no es perder, es hacer espacio para lo que viene. Y que a veces, la forma más valiente de amar es abrir las manos.

Si necesitas un abrazo en forma de libro y alguien que te diga "yo también he pasado por eso, y se puede", este es tu libro. No lo leas rápido. Mejor, léelo con una taza de té, para ser congruente con tus ganas de soltar.

Description

We are overly busy helicopter parents, control freaks, perfectionists, intolerants, over-consumers and social media junkies--who worry, fear, laugh less and always want more. In the midst of it, we wonder what it would feel like to open our hands and turn loose of all of it.

In HOLDING ON LOOSELY: Opening My Hands, Lightening My Load, and Seeing Something Else, author Dana Knox Wright tells stories of one who is hardwired to cling. To her children when they asked for a blessing to go. To someone else’s ideas, when she didn’t trust her own. She held on to prejudice when she would tell you she didn’t. She shut down for days while clinging to fear. She clung to youthfulness as if what would come next couldn’t be her life’s cherry on top.

In a particular season of her life, she recognized her bent to possess, to keep, to hold tightly, and to control was completely contrary to Jesus’ example. This is one woman’s history of holding on and her stories of turning loose--stories of the gentle and firm, humorous and heartbreaking ways God led her to turn loose. It is living minimally from the inside out.