when we say goodbye...

.. on April 30^th, 2006 I moved out of my loft at 1011 N. Killingsworth street. Closed the door on a chapter of my life, closed the door on the on ten foot tall windows letting in light from the east and the south, closed the door on the weathered hardwoods that if not careful would leave a nasty splinter the size of a small tree branch embedded in your foot, closed the door to the loud overhead heater, the art deco loft railing I always thought looked like seven peacocks defending small piles of un-hatched eggs, the 15 foot tall ceilings, closed the door on a place I never thought I would step foot in again. A sad realization - that signified a loss of something I loved- something that was my home. It’s now September of 2010, over four years later I am writing this in my bed in the loft with the peacock railing, high above the weathered hardwoods with the streetlamps on N. Killingsworth shining through the oversized windows. I am writing this from my home.

When we say “goodbye” to something, is it ever really “goodbye”? More and more I'm realizing that uncertainty is one of life’s greatest gifts! So often we have to ‘let go’ of things- desires- people- possessions- hopes- dreams- friends- but who's to say that letting go now, means letting go forever? Who's to say that just because something isn’t working in this present moment, in the current situation that it won’t work later... down the line...when things, life, situations, change? So to close ourselves off to uncertainty, is sort of like robbing ourselves of hope- just because we say goodbye now, doesn’t mean it might not one day be a part of our lives again, usually in a different and typically a much better capacity.

So though the walls of my home are similar, the beams and the bones, and the splintering hardwoods and the rippled panes of glass in the windows …the place is very different. The situation is very different. I am very different.

I am also realizing that I am mostly a contradiction (and that is ok) I could write that it is typically hard for me to let things go. That at times I can feel the fingers of my thoughts grasping so tightly to things that they leave bruises… but… that wouldn’t always be the truth… Sometimes, I can let go so quickly it makes me question if I ever really cared at all…. And at this point, I am SO very aware that this statement of contradiction has very little to do, if anything, with my loft or the fact that “goodbye isn’t always goodbye”

… or does it. Isnt it about fear?

Fear. The times, the memories, the people, the things that were easy to let go of – I wasn’t afraid of ‘losing’ or was aware that most things are never ours to lose to begin with... the things that I hold onto or have held onto seem to be the things I am afraid to live my life without. Things I am afraid to change. Things I fear I may never find again… fear.

What is it about the simple need to possess a tiny square of this planet or the heart of another person, or a lifestyle.. that pulls our emotions every which way, allowing us to let go of practical thought and simple balance?

Balance.

THIS is what I long for. Balance in life, In work, In love, Not possession. Balance. Life is not black and white - It never has been and I doubt it ever will be … so balance is what we are left with. Openness to the uncertainties, To the letting go, To the grey areas and even being open to the fear that goodbye may be forever or goodbye may be temporary… and though at times it may be sad, It can be balanced with the excitement that through loss and letting go, there can be the birth of a fresh chapter… a new beginning.. Possibly one we never even imagined wanting. Which means, that the trite saying “when one door closes a window opens” is for the most part true… though, in my case the windows that have been opened just happen to be ten feet tall.