The meditation teacher and author Jack Kornfield was asked if he uses any mantras. He mentioned metta — May I be well / May I be happy / May I be free from suffering — “Or sometimes I use the Beatles: Let it be.”
THAT struck a chord!
Let it be. That is my work now. In addition to letting well enough alone instead of pick-pick-picking, I am trying to see the very fine difference between doing nothing and doing something but without attachment. Sometimes nothing is exactly where the work is, and sometimes nothing is the easy way out. So, can you ask someone to eat his vegetables without attachment to whether he does it or not? Without attachment there’s not that catch in your voice. Without attachment, there’s not a big, dramatic sigh when you scrape the beans into the sink. Rather, you’ve asked, you’ve made your request in a loving way that might point the person — who is a growing body of bones and tissue but also a heart that hears the tone in your voice — a choice.
Let it be. Ask for what is rightly yours. Be firm. But be kind. Be clear. But know that you may not be heard.
Let it be. Show up to teach. Present your authentic being. Be there for the others who show up to practice with you. Then don’t care if they number two or five or eighteen. Don’t attach to whether you described Warrior I in the most brilliant way. You were there. Showing up. Being. That’s enough.
Let it be. Write what you yearn to write. Then let it be, knowing that an opening may or not appear for it to make any kind of public appearance.
Listen to your breath. Repeat om namo bhagavate vasudevaya. Pee. Read.
Let it be. Awake in the middle of the night? Avoid looking at the clock. Listen to your breath. Repeat om namo bhagavate vasudevaya. Pee. Read. Another round of chanting. Then try for sleep again but if it doesn’t come, don’t care.
Let it be. Let the drip in the sink be. It will get fixed in time. Let the collarless cat be. Some day when you’re near the pet store, you’ll walk in and get it done. In the meantime, he finds his own path without you just fine. Let the extra cookie be. You ate it. That’s done. I hope it tasted good.

Beautiful. Thank you for this.
Thank you! In the meantime a postscript: the cat hasn’t come home!
Were you glad?
I just got done listening to McCartney. A terrific post. I’m forwarding it to family and friends.
One of the songs I first learned to sing with my heart wide open. Thank you for the reminder.