The intimacy of a goodbye

Participating fully in life.

Full participation.

I have spent a lot of time and energy trying to shape my emotional terrain into a smooth and reasonable shape. This is clearly not the way I want to nor am supposed to live, and my internal world has (luckily) persistently remained illogical and untamed.

The dominant intention in my recent years has been to ‘let it all be felt.’ Whatever is here in this moment, in my body, is here to be felt with as much sincerity as possible. The practice is not to attach to any one state, but to allow each to be experienced. Participation seems to be the crux of it all — what are we here for, if not to participate fully in the complexities of life?

With full participation comes the ability to sense more acutely what is growing and what is decaying in our lives. We can feel what’s happening. We notice what wants to be tended to and what needs more sunlight. We can tell what is asking to be uprooted or composted or replanted. We can bravely face what has already withered or what is trying to die.

To participate fully in life is to open ourselves up to the devastation of an ending, the enchantment of a beginning, and the wide expanse of possibilities in between.

Growth involves change involves death.

“Many have felt the fear of loving too much. The fear and the pain of loving when you know there will be a loss. And when there is loss, there is of course deep grief.” Ram Dass

In reflecting on my last chapter of life (in which I moved across the country to a very cold place and discovered a lot of warmth), I am most proud of how much I let myself love. For the first time (consciously), I softened my barriers and decided to trust that no matter what, I could handle the pain that comes with loving.

I’m finding that the heartbreak of an ending can also be incredibly nourishing, even in a sort of agonizing way. Ram Dass says of loss, “the way we deal with grief has a lot to do with whether or not the grief heals and strengthens us or depriv[es] and starv[es] us.”

It is profoundly brave to dare to feel all of it when you know there will be loss. And, it seems, that this is the kind of bravery that gives rise to art and creativity, passion and purpose.

We can’t always choose when our endings happen. We often don’t know who we are saying goodbye to until after they are gone. There will always be loose strands and unfulfilled potentials, and that has to be ok, because that is how it is.

Let us not wait until we are confronted with a goodbye to experience the fullness of our emotional realm. Let this be an invitation to feel more honestly and earnestly right now. Let us be open to letting things decay and fall away, so that what is dormant may emerge. Let us be willing to love deeply, and let this show us the way forward.

Continued overwhelming moments.

A photo from winter 2019, Venice Canals, with my friends, that I return to regularly.

Overwhelming moments, the ones that nearly drown you but don’t. These alchemical moments sit on the precipice of new beginnings, and seek to transform your entire reality. These are the moments that come with the willingness to feel the depth of what is here, now.

To my Chicago chapter — thank you for the overwhelming moments, the lessons and the blessings. Thank you for showing me that I can love and be loved, I can grieve and be grieved, in ways that strengthen and not deplete.

I release you.

xx, maggie