Sorrow

I know that I will never do this work again in this same way and that a chapter of my life has ended. There were so many bittersweet goodbyes today. There is immense sorrow in leaving and a haunting amount of fixing I intended to do that won't exist in my absence. A mountain of tasks will dissolve when the door closes behind me. And the things I so fastidiously worked on will crumble with neglect. My work will turn to dust, a casualty of mismanagement, apathy, and stupidity. It is heartbreaking.

Telling people who I hold dear and respect that I am going felt like a dozen heartbreaks, the cracks spreading, and the hollow grief widening with each bewildered response. There was gratitude, affection, and love. Their sorrow met mine. And a recognition that our time together was fading.

I have been through enough change now to know this will pass, to know that there is beauty on the other side. But getting through the death is so difficult, understanding and processing the magnitude of the loss will take time. I was proud of the work I had done and I held so many I worked with in such high esteem. To part ways is a specific cruelty when it feels like there should have been more time.

When I can plant seeds again and see them erupt toward the light, the water and fertile soil egging them into existence, the healing will begin. Already I feel the vibrations of wonder at the next great project, the next aspiration. But for now, it is simply grief and sorrow and loss. It is bewildered astonishment that it is all over. It is a sense of gratitude for the impossibility of what I accomplished and the haunting of a hundred grains of an idea of which I had only started to conceive.

My heart feels heavy today, my eyes swollen with the exhaustion of goodbye. It is a gift to have loved a thing so much that its loss leaves you ragged. I wonder how many bold, beautiful things have died in their first breath. I wonder how many hearts have shattered over a dream. This energy must go somewhere, it must be funneled into work and life and creativity; though now it feels impossible, there is a dream beyond this one, lying dormant in need of a single spark to cast it into the light.

This goodbye was terribly heavy. It is one I will carry with pain for a long, long time. But I refuse to let the part of me who was capable of dreaming my last five years into existence go dormant. There is a knocking and the smallest sense of a whisper asking what beautiful thing could be next, what impossibility may become reality in the space created by expansive sorrow.

Next Chapters

The greatest truth is that we are crafted by the people with whom we spend our precious, fleeting moments. I have been chiseled by a thousand delicate kindnesses and gifted infinite confidence in conspiratorial tones. I have been buoyed by the strength of those around me ad infinitum and given the fortitude to continue by the gracious words of a friend in my most perilous moments.

Today, after speaking with you, I promised I would write and the thing I most want to remember and to dissect is how your goodness, your positivity, and your love has been a bright light for me all these years. We think small moments of grace don't matter when, in fact, they are creating the world over and over and over.

I have been drowning in a sense of shame, failure, and retreat. I have been carrying a deep sorrow for the projects I could not complete and for the people I let down. But your immediate response was to carry me, to remind me of the good I have done, and of the good I have yet to do. You reminded me that life is change and chapters and movement is the only inevitability. I did not hear disappointment, but I did feel the warmth of understanding and empathy. I felt celebrated in my past accomplishments and lauded in the pursuits I have yet to embark upon. This grace and kindness gave me the permission to accept this new truth and this new direction when it is not a forgiveness I readily offer myself.

Some days, the weight of the world and those who celebrate the pain of others feels too heavy a burden. It can be all consuming to think that your neighbor celebrates your grief and champions the destruction of ideals that feel holy. And yet, you are here. You. And with you, I know there are others who would cast a light in the darkest places, despite the cost to themselves.  The way you walk in this world and on this planet is a reminder that beauty exists and that it has the power to reverberate ad infinitum. 

Kindness is multifaceted. It is an immediate balm in distress. But it does not stop where it is born. It casts away shadow and destroys the echo of doubt. It defies isolation. It is a companion to the lonely and anathema to all the vile bottom dwellers. It is a thing that lives beyond its creator, walks without legs, and insulates in the harshest of storms.

Some days it is difficult to muster the courage to be a human. It can be a big and frightening place. And yet, I awaken each morning because I am not alone. Perhaps when we are weary and the world feels heavy, it is enough to know that the light we shine in dark places matters. It is enough to know that walking forward, shoulders touching, is a buoy against despair. It is enough to know that in our weak moments, there are arms waiting to hold us, a body ready to sit in companionable silence, or a poem on its way from a friend whose heart hurts like my own.

Today, your strength carried me. And when your own buckle under the weight of the next hard thing, I will be here, stoking the fire, prepping a cup of tea, and waiting with an open heart, companionship, and solidarity. So long as we walk this road together, we do not walk alone and, in a world that asks us to marinate in our isolation, it is enough to hear the echo of your footsteps beside mine as we plod ahead together.