On the other side of burnout
there is rest, there is a place
where even my incompetence
has a bucket it fits into.
As I compost all my bitterness,
my misplaced hopefulness,
my misspent hours,
I watch the steam
rise up from what’s rotten.
A wisp of a moist gray ghost,
a sign of moving on,
a sweet portent
there and gone.
What’s done
is done.
marniere 
Just reading this brings me my own sweet relief, and I feel myself letting go.
That letting go is so hard sometimes, but somehow not this time.
Knowing when to walk away from a situation and finally following through on it is sometimes the medicine for one’s sanity and the soul. Letting go is often the best gift you can give yourself. Been there, done that, way too many times to count.
One semester I had three finals on the same day. My Dad was in a local rehab hospital after one of his many strokes and I was totally fried physically and mentally. I think on two of the exams I wrote my name and handed the paper back to the professors. I was sitting in my car crying in the hospital parking lot when my Dad’s nurse saw me and came outside to see what was happening. I explained to her that I had just blown two finals and was not sure about the other one. She hugged me and told me that it would be ok. That I had given it my best shot and not to worry about the outcome, I could always retake the classes over, if I needed to later. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, things just don’t work out like you plan and you have to let it go and pray for the best outcome…