Sunday, August 13, 2017

Last night in Germany

Goodbyes.  Both the worst and one of the most beautiful aspects of life.  Finding myself both loving and loathing them.  In goodbyes, more often than not, you find out not only what someone means to you but also, what you mean to them.  You find these things out in the meaningful words that spill forth as your arms wrap around one another for that last time.  In the heartfelt cards, letters or gifts that are given both ways in parting.  You see it in the eyes, gaze softening, affection laden within.

You witness it in the fabulous friends who not only escort you to the airport but lift your four huge bags, carting them across the airport together, blazing a path in their wake.  Garnering strength from their fire and friendships.  You watch it in the tears and embraces between.  Feel it in the trembling of your heart as you walk away.

Further, you realize it in the weeks and months after that goodbye.  Sure, the hole they left with their departure grows smaller with each passing day.  You get used to it, adjust to their absence.  But still, there is an ever present small aching when wishing you could call them up as easily as you once did.  Text them to meet up sometime in the next few days and then realizing you cant.  Yearning to sit across from them in person.  Walk together side by side.  You can get used to someone being gone, but you never fully get over it.  You simply learn to adjust around the hole.

All of this, nestled within the overarching idea of goodbye, making it both one of life's most heart rending and heart cracking experiences.

Photos from my last night in Germany (Friday, August 4, 2017), with some of the best people <3

The Journey by David Whyte

Above the mountains
the geese turn into
the light again.

Painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.

Sometimes everything
has to be
inscribed across
the heavens

So you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.

Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
first, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.

Sometimes with
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire
has gone out,
someone has written
something new
in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving.
Even as the light fades quickly now,
you are arriving.

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