Moving

How do you say goodbye to a home? I imagine it involves a going away party, notching your initials in that one tree, visiting your old haunts, and saying goodbye to loved ones. Take away those things and you’re not left with many options. Friends have moved away, places are still closed, and you can’t bring yourself to hug the friends that are left. Because right now their health is more important. The health of those you’re moving toward even more so.

Three years ago, you bid farewell to your childhood home. Or at least the home you’ve lived in longest. Some dark times happened there, some bright times too. Your dog died, you and your siblings graduated, one of you got married. You didn’t know how to say goodbye then either. You and your sisters carved your names in the closet wall. You sat on the kitchen floor and had a moment with your parents. Your dad locked the door behind him, and you listened to “Landslide” the whole way to the new house just to twist the knife buried deep in your gut.

Fresh pages come easily when you’re aching not to be sad anymore. Your wings start screaming get out get out get out, but they don’t realize they might not be strong enough yet. You shake out the feathers and launch into the sky, watching and waiting for a new home to tell you it’s safe to land.

It’s funny how a person can become a place. Getting lost in the back roads will do that. You run headfirst into this City, unpack your life, and find your people, and the City just unfolds itself before you. Lets you discover all its secrets. Only then does the city settle into you. Now you’ve found your place in this world; now you get to discover your many forms, your many beliefs. You grow up here.

You held onto your childhood with both hands and all your Peter Pan-ness, and the City takes hold of you. “Try to let go once and a while,” the towering oaks say to you. So you try. Letting go takes practice. You’ve gone white-knuckled from holding on and you may break a few fingers in the process, but it’ll heal. Parts of your childhood begin to make sense. Maybe those bits of you were always inside you; they needed to grow up too.

Friends come up beside you and get to know the you you’ve become. You forget a time when they weren’t there. The days get lost in the shuffle and soon that night out last week becomes a “Remember when?” All of a sudden the cycle begins and your wings start to scream again get out get out get out. This time you’re strong enough, but this time you’re not sure where home is.

And then the world shuts down.

You’re left flailing, wondering where to turn to. Sometimes the best way to go is backwards. Return to your natural surroundings and get your head on straight. Maybe by then the world will be ready again. But in the meantime, if I may offer some advice:

·      Rediscover your City.

·      Visit your favorite haunts alone. Go to the ones that are open at least.

·      Listen to music that meant something while you were there so when you’re homesick again, those songs will find you.

·      Drive aimlessly. You’ll find where those back roads connect.

·      Journal your heart out. Feelings are messy and it is okay to be sad sometimes.

·      Go on walks. They’re good for the soul.

·      Spend every waking moment with those you couldn’t stand not saying goodbye to. 

In the midst of all this, pack up your life. Donate the things you no longer need and prepare your next steps. That way when you find a safe place to land, you’ll be ready to hit the ground running.