Endings

As I sat on the bus, rolling past the gorgeous farms and hills of Pennsylvania, I thought a lot. When one is on a bus for 8.5 hours alone and prone to motion sickness when attempting to read in a moving vehicle, there's not much of a choice. I thought a lot about a turbulent part of my life which, as of this afternoon, is finally over. But I also thought a lot about other things that aren't over, and likely won't be for a long time (if ever).

Some endings are like Autumn. The leaves are no longer green and living, but they are still beautiful to look back at for just a bit longer. You can still see a semblance of their former glory in their shape and suppleness, but they are dead. Their beauty in death is unrivaled by what they truly looked like in life, but it is a fleeting beauty. A fairly strong breeze can easily tear them from their branch and hurl them to the ground, where they will dry out and turn to dust. They're certainly not forgotten, however. A stroll outside on a late Autumn day. The wind picks them up and swirls them around you like a fiery dance. The air heavy with their scent. One pressed between waxed paper as a memento.

Other endings are raging fires. It begins small, a smoldering ember upon a dried, decaying log. As it is fed, a small flame grows from the glowing coals. The flame crawls along the dead ground to a tree. As it climbs ever higher along the trunk, it gets hotter, and more insistent. The flames reach higher into the sky as they burn the topmost branches. The wind carries the sparks along the forest, igniting ever more as they go. Several smaller fires rush toward each other, an urgent collision course. When finally they meet, they explode upward and outward, a huge dancing mass of pain and destruction. Their union spawns a massive plume of flames high into the air. The pain is excruciating, but necessary. The hope is that it will be put out (or will burn itself out) very quickly. In reality, it can burn for years, unrelenting in its destruction. Your memento of the inferno is the blackened, scarred, and smoking aftermath.

And then there are the endings that don't truly end, but evolve into something different. These can be touchy, painful, but ultimately hold the most hope for personal growth. One is forced to confront the reasons behind the end and truly work through them as part of the evolution. One must also look at what they've done, not just what was done to them. There may never be perfect resolution, but there will always be exploration and discoveries along the way.

Not all situations can be resolved. I dare say an overwhelming majority simply cannot. Some situations cause too much pain, too much rage, to be safe for evolution and must be eradicated. Others are experiences that weren't bad overall, and a bit of wistful looking back is fine. And many are not as clear cut as one or the other, but a mix. One thing is for certain, life happens in cycles. If you've not experienced endings (and the pain, anger, joy, relief, and growth that come along with them), you are not truly human.

I am essentially rootless at this very moment. I don't feel like I'm "from" anywhere just yet. Everything I own is here with me, but every fiber of my being is there waiting for me. There feels like home, but realistically, is it yet? Things need to be packed, sorted, thrown out, given away. Emotions need to be shelved, acknowledged, worked through. No more waiting until the last second in a bid to keep from having to think about, and deal with, the situations at hand. I wish there was a way to do this without causing any pain, but there isn't. Anything worth having is also worth a little pain.I accept mine with no reservations, but I don't enjoy the ripple effect to others. I know what is waiting for me next week and I cannot wait to get back to it, to him. But hanging here right now over this abyss, it looks so far away. Sitting here in this mire, unable to so much as make a list of what needs to be done, I feel the weight of it all on my shoulders. I just can't let this get to me. It's all part of the quest, part of what will strengthen me, what makes me appreciate the light at the end of it. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, but it continues with 50,000 or so more. I will reach the goal, but feeling like I've only just begun the journey is still daunting.