Sometimes you see quotes like this and want to throw the goddamn Facebook across the room. Because you DO know it’s time to start something new. And you DO want to trust the magic. But right now it hurts. It’s like a cord is being slowly pulled out of your soul, and with each fiber being removed, the left-behind fibers from which it disconnects scream with irritation, with pain. With loss. This process, you know, will go on for the next week as you conquer tangible and intangible disentanglings in preparation to temporarily move to Cambodia. You’ve lived it before during other moves.
You know and you know and you know.
You know that people will tell you that this is exactly what you wanted, that you asked for this type of thing to be in your life. But you know that that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy.
You know that people will remind you about the wonderful work you’ll be doing, about the amazing experiences you’ll have. But you know that you’ll miss the comfort of the mundane, the expected.
You know that people will tell you that you’re coming back, that things will be here for you. But you know that you can never really come home again, that you will have changed and so will everything to which (and everyone to whom) you return.
You know that people will say that they will keep in touch with you while you’re over there, that they’ll be with you in spirit. But you know from experience that the timeframe for keeping in touch doesn’t always last the entire duration of your absence, even when you’ve sworn that won’t happen.
You know that people will tell you that everything will be okay, that you will meet great people over there. But you also know that you will undoubtedly have intense moments of loneliness for which there will be no soothing balm.
You know that people will tell you to be present, to lean into these feelings and get to know them intimately. And you know that you will do your best to do this, and that at times it will hurt like hell.
And so you really feel that removal of the part of you that just can’t come with you on this trip. That part of you that consists of the places you have come to adore and call home, the friends that have brought you such solace and joy, the family that you know loves you so much you feel it in the fabric of your being.
But those left-behind fibers inside of you? While they’re raw as hell right now, they know what it feels like to be touched by these wonders that they need to leave behind for now. They know that they will heal into altered fibers that are willing and able to accept connections to new wonders. They know that they will likely be stronger both for having been connected and for the process of healing from being disconnected.
And so you know that you will try to be all 38 Special and hold on loosely.
And you know that you will eventually look back on this time with a smile on your face and a wistful feeling in your soul.
And you know that you will lean kindly into this rawness, because you know acts like this are the only way to assuage the wanderlust that fills the space between each of the fibers of your being.
And you know that you will try your damndest to trust the magic of beginnings.
Or maybe that’s just me.