Leaving anywhere, never easy:
I’ve never liked goodbyes. Even if I’m not the one leaving, the parting means that the moment is leaving–the time together.
And yet without leaving, one can never have the joy of returning. Or the pleasure of memories. Or the stories through which we recall times and places long gone from our lives. Or the becoming.
Sometimes, it is the leaving that allows us the freedom to move forward. Without the Exodus, we’d have been stuck as slaves and never attained the Promised Land. There are times in life when it’s leaving for a short time that allows us to realize something about our lives, simply because we’re in a new place. Other times, we need to move ourselves in order to get to a new phase of our lives–either because we are walking away from something that’s holding us back or because we’re walking towards a new opportunity. Or because it’s just time to go.
And the leaving is scary. And the leaving is sad. And the wilderness is frightening–those moments between having left and having arrived. And yet there’s power in it, as well. And there is potential in it.
And it’s necessary.