(you’re going to need some boots)
Hello dear friend,
Last week, I talked to you about there being a time for everything.
This week, in our house, it was a time for some letting go.
On Monday, our eldest boy left home to begin his new adventure.
It’s time for a new, exciting season for him, as he begins his degree and moves out of home (sort of) and begin life as a student.
Note: I’m writing this ahead of the moment, I will need some space for myself once we say goodbye, so I am writing this week’s sidetrack beforehand.
As I have been approaching this day, I have found myself looking back, rather wistfully, remembering him as a little boy. Remembering the times and seasons that we have had. The difficult days. The wonderful days. The heart-filling and heart-breaking days. A new time is coming, and my emotions and my thoughts needed to get their head around that. Every so often I catch myself. Looking back, remembering, and feeling nostalgic, not quite ready for what is ahead. Take me back.
Perhaps you are in your own season of change.
It may not be a child moving out, of course, but there are so many other moments of change and transition that you could be experiencing right now, beckoning in a new season. One that maybe you don’t want, or don’t feel ready for, or leaves you feeling uneasy or unprepared. Maybe you’re an empty nester now. Perhaps your youngest child has just gone to school. Perhaps retirement is coming. Maybe you’re the one heading to uni. Or it’s time for relocation. Or a new job. A promotion. Perhaps a loved one has moved away, or passed away. Returning to the office, or never returning to the office. So many significant moments that I am convinced we are always on the verge of one!
As I was cooking dinner the other night, I was listening to my current audiobook. There was a beautiful moment between a younger character (Donna), who was struggling with a time of transition and loneliness, and she was chatting to another character, Ibrahim (who is in his eighties) about it and I thought the wisdom was just beautiful. In fact, it stopped me in my tracks. Tears rolled down my face as I stirred the risotto and no, it wasn’t just the onions.
It was a truth I needed to hear, and maybe you do, too.
“Open your eyes now Donna, I want to talk to you in a different way.” Ibrahim looked deeply into her eyes.
“You know that time is not coming back, don’t you Donna? The friends, the freedom. The possibilities.”
“You are supposed to be cheering me up!” says Donna.
“Let it go. Remember it as a happy time. You were at the top of the mountain and now you’re in a valley it will happen to you a number of times.”
“So what do I do now?”
“You climb the next mountain, of course.”
“Oh yeah of course,” says Donna. “Simple. And what’s up the next mountain?”
“We don’t know, do we. It’s your mountain. No one has ever climbed it before.”
“And what if I don’t want to? What about if I just want to go home and cry every night and pretend to everyone that everything is okay?
“Then do that. Keep being scared, keep being lonely, keep being sad, keep looking back.
And spend the next twenty years coming to see me, and I will keep telling you the same thing. Put your boots on and climb the next mountain. See what’s up there. Friends, promotions, babies. It’s your mountain.”
“Will there be other mountains after that one?”
“So I can leave babies for another mountain?”
“You can do whatever you want. But looking forward, not back.”
I hope you found that helpful.
It’s time to put our boots on. There are new mountains to be climbed.