i’m not sure why this leaving feels bigger.
bigger than small goodbyes or
bags packed for five short months.
what is it about this change that feels looming?
that beckons and terrorizes,
invites and denies.
i have left before.
and i am sure the weight was the same,
or bigger. scarier.
i was younger then. did that make it easier?
somehow i imagine my child-self being scared,
but maybe i was just naive.
and the thing is, i trust this transition.
trust the unfolding.
trust the path that i can barely see.
i’m not really sad to be leaving,
though my eating might point to a
and really – i am grieving.
all of the moments i’ll miss
all of the faces. all of the losses.
all of the highlights and
low-lights of day to day life.
i have 4 days left here.
4 full days of goodbyes and
closed boxes. (now only 2)
i’m not going forever. or even for long.
just for adventure,
for something. something new.
“actively engage the art of letting go”
we don’t really know how to let go.
don’t know how to grieve.
don’t know how to transition.
and i am not doing this transition well.
as always, it is too last minute,
too many things left undone.
still so many people i wish i could see,
so many hugs and goodbyes,
and seizing of the moments.
and instead, i sit here heavy-eyed at work at 4am,
thinking of all i’ll miss.
who i’ll miss.
i’ll miss these kids here. for all the highs and lows.
i’ll miss nexus – the practices, the path.
i’ll miss my home – the 5 years come and gone.
and i’ll miss so many people.
i’ll miss my family. so so much.
they embody summer to me.
and i’ll miss you. and this.
and all of the things that bring us together
(the same things that will keep us together)
in the fall, i was itching to get away from here,
to be out there.
and now, i am dragging my feet.
which is good. really good, actually.
it is always best to leave when you’re not ready.
better that than to run as if on fire.
and i’m not ready.
there’s too much richness here. too much goodness.
this community. these friends.
and i also carry with me the weight of my leaving.
not that i leave such a deep space,
but i hate my absence to be felt a burden.
so i hope that the missing
will be mutual
but not heavy.
and it is all the harder because i am moving into
‘not knowing’ – that scary cloud that
shrouds the future with uncertainty
but the sun hides behind the clouds
so i’ll keep looking for light,
even with all my fears.
i wish i weren’t going to be so tired these last days.
which i didn’t leave everything to the last minute.
wish i could be everywhere at once.
but, for now, i’ll make carrot cake
and write some letters.
try to keep awake a little while.
and i know, as always,
this is never goodbye – just an ellipsis
a break in this sentence
a pause before the next thought emerges…
a space where there is so much more to say…
an invitation to continue…
a promise there is more to come…