The quiet power of letting go

Borneo Post

3 days ago

Letting go is not giving up; it is choosing to honour what is real instead of clinging to a dream that no longer brings peace. — Photo from pexels.com / RDNE Stock Project
WHAT does it really mean to explore your own mind?
It's more than just thinking — it's noticing how thoughts come and go, how emotions shape them, and how habits quietly run the show.
Ever heard of the phrase 'minding the mind'?
I've seen it in some mindfulness writing, but what does it really mean?
To me, it means slowing down and getting curious about our thoughts – asking things like, 'Why did I think of that?' or 'Where did that feeling come from?'
Have you ever caught yourself doing that?
It might seem small, but it actually opens the door to something big – cognitive psychology.
This field helps us understand how our minds work: why we think, feel, remember, or get stuck the way we do.
So if you've ever wondered why your brain does what it does, let's dig in.
Cognitive psychology shows that feeling stuck often comes down to how our minds work.
And that some memories stick because they are emotional or repeated, while others fade away.
If we keep filling our minds with doubt or stress, it becomes the mental loop that we live in.
The best part? Cognitive psychology shows us that we are not stuck thinking the way we always have – we actually can change how our minds work.
Pretty empowering, right?
What we focus on shapes what stays. Being gentle with ourselves and more aware of what we feed our thoughts can shift how we remember, think, and find our way forward.
And that is where real growth begins.
I watched my partner stream the video game 'Clair Obscur: Expedition 33' recently, and it really pulled me in.
It is a stunning role-playing game (RPG) on the surface, but what has stuck with me is how deeply it gets into the human stuff – grief, memory, and the stories we hold onto.
Just a heads-up, if any of you are thinking about playing the game, there is a pretty big spoiler coming up.
I usually try to avoid giving anything away, but this story is just too good not to share.
Aline's story hit especially hard. She created the world of 'Lumière' to escape the pain of losing her son by literally painting over reality just to survive it.
In the game, she becomes the 'Paintress' – a figure who reshapes the world around her with her brush, crafting a world where her son still exists.
The world she creates is beautiful but fragile, and the characters must journey through it as time and memory begin to fall apart.
Watching that unfold, it made me think about how we all do that in our own ways – holding on to certain memories, avoiding others, and getting stuck in loops we don't even notice.
Sometimes, holding on feels like part of you is underwater, trying to breathe and move at the same time – every day hurts a little more.
You keep telling yourself it is just a rough patch. You go back through old memories, hoping to find something to hold onto.
But slowly and quietly, the reality starts to sink in: trying is starting to feel heavier than the pain of walking away.
Eventually, your tight heart has to let go.
Not because you have forgotten, but because you need to stop hurting and finally catch your breath.
Letting go isn't giving up. It's choosing to honour what is real over clinging to a dream that is no longer bringing you peace.
In the same way, Aline uses painting to cope with grief in a deeply personal way.
For her, painting becomes a quiet anchor. Through the activity, she gives shape to emotions that are too heavy for words. It helps her slow down, process the shock, and reconnect with herself.
However, while painting helps the grief-stricken mother cope, she also gets pulled too deeply into that inner world.
It becomes more than just healing; it becomes an escape.
Grief can do that. But that's part of what makes her story human.
In her case, the canvas becomes a place where time and reality lose their grip, and she risks getting stuck in memory and emotion instead of moving forward.
Her art is powerful, but it also shows how easy it is to get lost when trying to make sense of pain.
Losing someone you love and still trying to show up for work, for your responsibilities, or for others – it's brutal.
You get up, do the things and smile when needed.
But inside, there's this ache that doesn't quite go away, and the world keeps spinning like nothing happened.
That's what makes Aline hit so hard.
She is this quiet, steady force, fixing things alone in her little corner – all while clearly carrying something unspoken.
When I first saw her as the 'Paintress' in that imaginary world she'd created, you could just feel the loneliness around her.
Even though she was painted as the villain at first, there was this quiet sadness she never spoke about.
It's like grief: invisible to everyone else, but you're living in it every second.
And still, she holds it together not because she feels okay, but because something in her decides to keep going.
That's also the heartbeat of Expedition 33. So many of the characters are carrying loss – of people, of purpose, and of meaning.
And yet, they keep trying. Keep building. Keep hoping.
Sure, it's just a fictional video game, but honestly, the way it captures grief feels incredibly real.
It really took me by surprise.
Grief doesn't stop you from doing good, but it changes how you do it.
Maybe you're quieter now. Maybe more thoughtful. Maybe more tired.
But the love and effort you give still matter – maybe even more, because you're offering it while holding on to your own broken pieces.
* The writer is a psychology graduate who enjoys sharing about how the human mind views the world. For feedback, email to [email protected].