You’ve moved a lot these past few years. You’ve packed things into boxes, booked plane tickets, filled the cars. You’ve held new keys and opened fresh pages to a chapter.
But the thing is – and I am learning – you have to be all in.
You can’t really have one foot in, and one foot out. You’ve got to have them both in one place, in one season, in one story.
Life is too short to straddle the fence. It’s too short to let yourself be stretched in two places, between two stories, between two lives. You’ve got to do the life you have well and you’re not big enough to live two lives.
And I think that might mean jumping in – feet first – until you’re all wet. I think it might mean crying the ugly tears that things have ended. I think it might mean holding on tight to the one who’s right in front of you. And I think it might mean saying goodbye, and meaning every syllable.
You just need to be all there. The ones in front of you need all of you. They can’t just have pieces of you, my friend. You were never meant to be broken pieces but whole. All there.
It might be easier to let go if you let it all go at once. In one breath, as the doors shut and the keys are handed over, you let it end. You don’t cling to it. You don’t live in it. You don’t try with every piece of you to stay – but you keep walking. You don’t know what’s ahead of you but you need to find out.
Goodbyes are never easy but they are as necessary as hellos. I don’t know much more than that, but I know that somehow, endings are always beginnings, too. I know that sometimes you need to find the end of yourself to really find where you begin.
So be all there, sweet friend. Change your address instead of clinging to the old one. Stay close by even when some days you just want what was before. Sit down next to strangers even though your life feels too full to add another. Write the endings because you get to turn the page and find a new beginning.
Be all there. Two feet in, heart fully present. Even if there’s tears in your eyes, look ahead, because you can,
‘with one eye squinted,