"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another" -Anatole France
There is just something about an empty room. It's the same room - my room, the same four walls I've lived in for the last few years. The same view from the windows, the same light coming in at exactly the same angle as it has around 4pm on a winter's day. Devoid of the things that make a room a bedroom, however; a bed, a lamp, a shelf of books; it's just a room. Where someone new will see possibilities, I see what was.
I don't think I have ever made such a drastic transition in my entire life, and I don't think I have ever been so ready to do so. In my time here in Baltimore, I've done everything I wanted to do, I've lived every life I wanted to live here, and I'm ready to move on. I'm ready for a new climate, a new culture, a new favorite cafe to work in, a new job, a new (permanent) roommate who I'm pretty psyched to live with, and the next stage of my life.
"We must die to one life before we can enter another." So many goodbyes in the past week, and many more to come in my last 8 days here in the States. These changes have been so very longed for, but they do have their melancholy. And there will be slips and scrapes and bad navigation and tearful conversations back home because the UAE doesn't have the right shampoo for girls with fine blonde hair and transition, but I welcome it.
While I hope to one day feel more settled than I have, I hope to never be complacent. New challenges, new adventures, new paths while still working hard to maintain the love and relationships and lessons learned from prior lives. Because you can - and should - never fully shed yourself of your past lives. Rather, they should inform and complement the stages to come.
I leave one empty room behind with most of my earthly possessions packed into a shipping crate that will begin it's terrifically slow plod across the Atlantic next week (and take 6 weeks to reach me in the Middle East), but there is another empty room waiting for me. A room where I'll put a bed, a lamp, a shelf of books, and make it into a bedroom. An office. A living room. A really fabulous balcony. One life is being tied up in neat little bows, but another is only just forming.
And leaving behind a part of myself is just fine by me - because that means there is always something to come back to to visit.
There is just something about an empty room. It's the same room - my room, the same four walls I've lived in for the last few years. The same view from the windows, the same light coming in at exactly the same angle as it has around 4pm on a winter's day. Devoid of the things that make a room a bedroom, however; a bed, a lamp, a shelf of books; it's just a room. Where someone new will see possibilities, I see what was.
I don't think I have ever made such a drastic transition in my entire life, and I don't think I have ever been so ready to do so. In my time here in Baltimore, I've done everything I wanted to do, I've lived every life I wanted to live here, and I'm ready to move on. I'm ready for a new climate, a new culture, a new favorite cafe to work in, a new job, a new (permanent) roommate who I'm pretty psyched to live with, and the next stage of my life.
"We must die to one life before we can enter another." So many goodbyes in the past week, and many more to come in my last 8 days here in the States. These changes have been so very longed for, but they do have their melancholy. And there will be slips and scrapes and bad navigation and tearful conversations back home because the UAE doesn't have the right shampoo for girls with fine blonde hair and transition, but I welcome it.
While I hope to one day feel more settled than I have, I hope to never be complacent. New challenges, new adventures, new paths while still working hard to maintain the love and relationships and lessons learned from prior lives. Because you can - and should - never fully shed yourself of your past lives. Rather, they should inform and complement the stages to come.
I leave one empty room behind with most of my earthly possessions packed into a shipping crate that will begin it's terrifically slow plod across the Atlantic next week (and take 6 weeks to reach me in the Middle East), but there is another empty room waiting for me. A room where I'll put a bed, a lamp, a shelf of books, and make it into a bedroom. An office. A living room. A really fabulous balcony. One life is being tied up in neat little bows, but another is only just forming.
And leaving behind a part of myself is just fine by me - because that means there is always something to come back to to visit.
1 comment:
I cannot ever ever EVER imagine you as being complacent. Everrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. However, should you start to slide, I'm sure we'll all let you know. Possibly by dangling bottles of wine in front of your face like a carrot to get you out the door. ;)
~Kris
Post a Comment