DRAG

Let Go or Be Dragged: Lessons from the Road and the Recovery Room

There’s a Zen proverb I’ve come back to time and time again: Let go or be dragged.

Simple. Brutal. True.

It’s the kind of line that doesn’t need a second read to understand, you either release the grip on what’s hurting you, or it drags you through the mud until you’re unrecognizable to yourself.

I’ve felt both sides of that. I’ve clung to identities that weren’t mine, carried resentments like trophies, and refused to leave situations long past their expiration date. I’ve held tight to illusions of control in business, in relationships, in my own body. Every time, the result was the same, exhaustion, disconnection, and a growing ache that no drink, drug, dollar, or distraction could numb.

Letting go isn’t weakness. It isn’t surrender in the way we fear it. It’s actually the strongest, most defiant act we can take against the forces inside us that say we have to keep carrying things alone.

On the bike, on the massage table, or in the hard conversations with those we’ve hurt or lost, letting go feels like a free fall. But that fall? That’s where life rushes back in.

At SAGmonkey, whether I’m working a recovery coaching session, loosening up tight muscles on a soigneur run, or guiding someone through a long-overdue conversation with themselves, the message stays the same: You don’t have to keep dragging this.

Your story can change. Your grip can loosen. Your heart can open back up.

Today’s as good a day as any to ask: What am I still clinging to? And what would happen if I just … let it go?

The road is long, and none of us get out clean. But damn, it’s a hell of a lot lighter when you drop the dead weight.

See you out there.