It will perhaps always be difficult for me to hold the door while Maria goes outside in the cold and hauls firewood into the house with our L.L Bean wood trolley.

I always think I should be helping or hauling the wood myself.

I did this for years and then shared the chore as often as I could.

I realized last year that I couldn’t do it anymore; my back isn’t up to pulling things in that way, and neither are my knees.

Maria never complains about the hard work she does; in many ways, she loves the physical work that comes with living on a farm.

She is happy and enthusiastic about her life.

So am I happy about mine.

Letting go is one of the most powerful elements of the spiritual life I have been seeking.

Letting go of anger, resentment, grievance, panic, and fear. In many ways, growing older is about letting go with grace and self-awareness.

There are some things I can no longer do.

There are more things I can do now: take good pictures, cook good food, stay healthy, make good friends, and even learn to play the ukulele.

My love of dogs has taught me a powerful lesson about letting go. I decided that rather than mourn the loss of a dog that dies, I would instead get another one to love. That began my thinking about letting go, something I needed to do throughout my life.

I was so full of anger, resentment, and regret and was not healthy. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life that way.

I have learned to let go of the self-destructive ways I loved. I am learning how to handle money and plan and feel safe.

I am learning how to do good in the small ways of St. Therese. I am learning how to be a mentor to younger men and women. I am learning how to be a grandfather in realistic and meaningful ways.

I am learning to live in the present, not in the past or the future.

I am learning to be a father who listens and finds ways to support my daughter.

I am always learning how to support and encourage and love Maria, as she is also doing for me. That is a challenging and essential task.

I am learning how to forgive and live without complaint and self-pity.

My anger is melting away. I do not speak poorly of my life or my work. I do not accept other people’s attempts to label me or tell me what to do.

And I am learning to let go of the farm chores I have always loved and done with eagerness.

I can’t haul firewood anymore. That’s the reality of it.

There is nothing I can do about it other than to accept it and respect it. And let go.

But what I’ve lost and let go of is not what I dwell on.

Every day, I ask myself not what I can’t do, but what I can do. Every day allows me to do good, love well, and live a meaningful life.

G.K. Chesterson wrote that doing nothing is sometimes one of the highest duties of man.

I am beginning to understand what this means.