(an adieu to: you know who you are – written on June 29 2013).
There truly was a rush, an inexplicable rush yesterday as we waved, smiled and cried our goodbyes. Then you disappeared around the point and were gone. It was quiet.
I guess I felt happy for the end but now I’m not sure. A month in Thailand. I experienced more than ever before and a fleeting hug goodbye couldn’t give our small lifetime together any justice. I humbly admit that you changed my life completely.
Should I have just said that?
Was that too much?
I had a good, bountiful life before and now I’m only left with that memory, in the hazy past. I’m left with scattered pieces of this new, foreign self and new sensitive feelings that each of you imprinted into me.
What hasn’t changed:
The sun is still hot. I’m still with Clara. I still feel insecure about silly things. I still see a blank canvas in my future. I’m still unlearning.
How did we do it? How did you allow us to guide you, day in and day out? How did you muster up the strength to keep showing up? Did you begin to recognize what really lies under the asana? When you called me out, called me up, called me in – could you feel your layers shedding off?
Each layer was hauntingly memorable.
(I pause to gaze at each layer of blue in the landscape – between ocean and sky and thank God for all the mirrors you reflected into my soul.)
Soul searching, self-hate, falseness, lustiness, confidence, crisis, spirituality, communication, trust.
I will miss you, mirrors. Your reflections were powerful.
I have sat alone in the forest but it is through togetherness that all my ideas and beliefs were shattered. In togetherness, we create the environment for transformation. We show up and the lessons present themselves. It’s not through writing this that shift happens. These are simply words in another notebook, containing other plans and quotes and words that don’t mean much. But of course, I do want this to mean a lot. To all of us.
What does really matter:
Bonding with a new family, forming new bonds with my lost brother, the silence and the heartfelt looks we shared over 25 days, holding hands and holding hearts through exhaustion and pain, hysterical laughter feeding our souls, different strokes for different folks, the ease of jungle wildlife defecating everywhere, coming together. Staying together.
What I will not miss:
Coconuts crashing though bungalow roofs, swaying for hours after disembarking boats, dumping scooters, wearing ear plugs to bed, watching the ones I love in heart growth spurts. (but now I do miss all of these precious things terribly).
I find that I worry about how to hold on to all that passed between us. Where will all of our aha’s go?. I worry that we will slip back into the patterns and the easy ways. I worry that our moment in time together will remain just that with no relevance to our futures.
So please, come back to me in glimpses, in healing circles, in dreams, in spontaneous seconds of little effort. Bring me a piece of you, your laughter, your contemplated and spontaneous insights, your naivety, your life experiences, your scents, your delightful eyes, smiles, silence, strength.
Let’s not close back up.
Let’s not close this book.
Our unique journeys are integral to the strength of our tribe.
AHO. Today is a good day to die.