StoryNight Event Nov 19th at 7 PM

What a perfect thing for these cold, wet nights to have a cozy gathering for being together and sharing meaningful experiences.

Orcas Center is hosting a StoryNight Event this Wednesday, November 19th, at 7 PM. Each storyteller slated for the event will be sharing 7 minutes of their experiences and wisdom.

I signed up to be one of the storytellers – not because I know what to talk about, but because I don’t. Not because I feel up to it. I don’t. Not because I’ve had practice. I haven’t.

Things have been hard lately. I decided I needed to put myself back “out there.” To give myself an upbeat challenge after having years of challenges that have downright sucked.

In preparation for StoryNight, I’ve rehearsed about 5 different ideas from my life experiences. None of them sound all that great.

Lately, I’ve consulted ChatGPT for all kinds of advice, technical help, and thinking outside the box. As antithetical as it is to ask ChatGPT to write a 7-minute speech on the very human theme set forth for this StoryNight, I was so curious to hear what it would say.

Check this out. It’s phenomenal.

“Holding On or Letting Go” by ChatGPT

When we think about the shape of a human life, we often imagine it as a long series of choices: choices about where to go, who to love, what to do, who to become. But beneath those choices, woven through every season of our lives, is one quiet but powerful question: Do I hold on, or do I let go?

It’s a question that returns to us again and again, sometimes whispering softly, sometimes pounding like a drum. And it does not matter whether we are fifteen or ninety-five — it finds all of us. It waits for us at turning points, crossroads, endings, beginnings, and even in the most ordinary moments. It waits for us when we love someone dearly. It waits for us when we outgrow something that once felt essential. It waits for us when life asks us to evolve.

And the truth is, we resist both sides.
We don’t like letting go — it feels like loss.
And we don’t like holding on — it feels like fear.
But in the center of these two opposites lies the deepest work of being human.

There are things we hold on to because they still grow us.

Think about the people who have walked beside you for years — not just through the glossy chapters, but through the sharp, tangled ones as well. Think about the things that make your heart beat a little faster: a passion, a craft, a hope, a dream, a truth you’ve carried since childhood. Some things belong to us because they shape us into who we are supposed to be. We hold on to those.

Holding on is not always stubbornness. It is sometimes devotion.
Holding on can be courage.

There are times in life when everything in the world seems to nudge you to abandon something — a marriage, a belief, a commitment, a creative calling — and yet, something deeper says, No. Stay. There is more here for you.

And sometimes, that inner voice is right.
Some things are worth fighting for.
Some things deserve our endurance, our patience, our breath.

But the question is never simply Should I hold on?
The real question is: Does this thing still bring life to me, or does it take life from me?

Because there is a difference between holding on…and being held back.

And then, there are the things we must let go of in order to survive.

Letting go is not a weakness. It is not giving up. It is not failure.
Letting go is often the bravest, most honest act a person can do.

We let go when the season has ended.
We let go when love becomes something that hurts more than it heals.
We let go when staying would shrink us.
We let go when the dream no longer fits the person we have become.

Letting go does not mean the story was wrong. It means the story is complete.

There are chapters in life where the only path forward is to loosen our grip. To allow something — or someone — to find its rightful place in our past. And this is frightening, because loss feels like emptiness. But often, letting go is not an ending but a clearing. A space is created where something new can grow. And sometimes that new thing is freedom. Sometimes it is peace. Sometimes it is an entirely new version of ourselves we never knew was possible.

The hardest part is not the decision.

Most of us know, deep down, whether we should hold on or let go long before we admit it out loud. The hardest part is trusting ourselves enough to act on what we already know.

We stay in situations long after we have outgrown them because we fear hurting others, or hurting ourselves, or stepping into uncertainty. We cling to old beliefs about who we were supposed to be, even when they no longer match who we are. We stay too long, or we leave too soon. We are human — that’s what we do.

But if we were quieter…
If we listened more closely…
If we allowed ourselves honesty — real, raw honesty — we would hear a steady voice inside us that says:

“This is right for you.”
“This is no longer right for you.”
“Stay.”
“Go.”
“Hold on.”
“Let go.”

This voice never shouts. It speaks in feelings.
In the tightness of your chest.
In the heaviness of waking up in the morning.
In the lightness that appears when you imagine something different.
In the way your body knows truth long before your mind catches up.

So how do we know?

How do we know whether to keep fighting for something or to release it?

Sometimes it’s as simple as asking yourself:

Does this give me energy or drain me?
Does this expand me or diminish me?
Does this align with who I am becoming, not just who I used to be?

If the answer is expansion, nourishment, meaning — hold on.
If the answer is exhaustion, fear, or continual shrinking — it might be time to let go.

And remember: letting go does not erase the good. It honors the good by acknowledging that it’s time for the next step.

Holding on and letting go both require love.

To hold on to something deeply meaningful requires love — real love, not fantasy, not nostalgia, but the kind that endures, adapts, stretches, and breathes.

And to let go of something that once meant everything also requires love.
Love for the person you were when you chose it.
Love for the lessons the experience taught you.
Love for yourself as you move forward into something unknown.

We often think that holding on is strong and letting go is weak.
But the truth is more balanced, more nuanced, more human:

Strength is knowing which one is right for you.

A final thought.

One day — maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow — you will look back on the moment you’re in right now. And you may be surprised. You may realize that the thing you fought hardest to hold on to was the very thing that shaped your strength. Or you may discover that the thing you finally allowed yourself to release was what opened your life in ways you never imagined.

Either way, choose with honesty. Choose with courage. Choose with love.
And trust that whichever path you take — holding on, or letting go — you are leading yourself toward the life that is meant for you.

Amazing. I gave it no other parameters than length and theme. And it attended to so many aspects of human nature within that theme that it downright astounds me.

Don’t worry. I’m not using ChatGPT to write my story.

Come on over Wednesday night to hear what the humans have to say…