If you know the rest of the expression, you know that it goes like this: All good things must end.
I’m writing this before the morning sun peeks over the tops of the silhouetted cedars and evergreens visible from my patio, illuminating a new day, one which marks the last of 11 days where I’ve been away from work and social obligations. It’s been a lovely, intentionally quiet, and deeply reflective time.
In the past four months, I’ve shed numerous belongings that no longer fit who I am. In the past four weeks, I’ve experienced the ending of an extraordinary relationship in my life. In the past 48 hours, I’ve burned 37 journals that have spanned 32 years of my life.
Good Goddess, has it been bittersweet…
Four years and a day ago, I began this blog, not entirely sure what I was doing, but determined that I would write and publish my first post. I’d polled some friends when I chose the title of it: “No Apologies: Life from the Absurd to the Sublime.”
I was full of fire while being transformed by the fires of loss, and the tone of those early posts reflected that. I gave myself permission to voice other parts of me, those which defy people’s first impressions of me (read: sweet and polite. Oh, how very boring to seem that one-dimensional…). Through this blog I’ve been able to be fun, at times brash, at times bold, but always truthful.
Writing these posts, some of them wrenching, has done more than help me survive some difficult times. The writing has helped me heal and grow. It has for decades. It is one of the most certain things in my life, and I am so grateful to have this gift of expression, and to be able to share it.
It’s been a year of immense intensity in every area of my life: physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Four years and a day after beginning this work, I find myself at a threshold. The voice which has been quietly calling to me is only getting louder. It’s a voice I want to heed.
It’s time to let go. It’s time to stop putting aside the biggest dream. It’s time…it’s time.
It feels very good to admit that, here, on the page. I am in no way done writing. Far from it, for I can no more let go of the words than I can the gift of each breath that enters my lungs and helps animate my physical form each moment of my life.
I have dreams of how the words will show up next, and I’m making some shifts and space so I can do this. It’s different, it’s unknown…and it will be worth it. Of that I feel certain.
The sun has risen, shining its brilliance into my room. With the growing light, I offer these final words: From my heart’s center, thank you for reading. Thank you for witnessing. Thank you for sharing this part of the journey.