Growing up, my family spent summers with relatives in the Midwest. There, various traditions gave shape to our days—tubing down the Apple River, pontoon rides on the St. Croix, catching fireflies, and eating fresh berries in my grandmother’s cut-glass dishes with sugar and cream. Best of all were the times with my two cousins, Kim and Jack. The same ages as my sister and I, the four of us were inseparable, until the dreaded moment when the parents signaled it was time to leave.

That’s when our ritual of resistance began. We’d huddle close, sit cross-legged on the floor, and shout in unison: “Lock!” Arms and legs intertwined, we became one unbreakable knot. About half the time, our tactics worked—we won a sleepover. The other half, we at least won the promise of one. Either way, we were convinced resistance paid off.

Looking back, I see echoes of that ritual in how I respond to change, discomfort, or loss today. In mindfulness, this is called the hindrance of aversion—the ways we push away what feels unpleasant, unsafe, or out of control. Sometimes, of course, our instincts protect us from real danger. But often, my resistance is to perceived threats—feelings I’d rather not feel.

Recently, when a loved one faced challenges, I caught myself cycling through my “adult” rituals of resistance: fix-it mode (researching solutions, making lists), forget-it mode (immersing in busyness), and fog-out mode (binge-watching in bed). After days of effort, I realized I was exhausted—not by the situation itself, but by resisting my own feelings.

So I tried something different. Instead of resisting, I practiced surrender and trust. I allowed the waves of feeling to rise and fall. I noticed gratitude for my heart and all that it feels. I discovered I could hold compassion for another while still experiencing joy in my own life.

Letting go of resistance didn’t make everything easy. But it reminded me that life flows more freely when I don’t hold on so tight.

Here’s to all of us experimenting with loosening our grip, dropping the rituals that drain us, and trusting the life that opens when we allow ourselves to feel.