Goodbyes: A Story of Perception
I’m going to be blatantly honest here.
These two weeks really could have gone one of two ways.
I could have come into this thinking about all of the things, all of the people, all of the familiarity that I left back at home and even extending to Europe. I said goodbye to people that turned into my family, to people that I deeply love living in Spain, Andorra, Belgium. I said this goodbye not knowing when I will see them next and with a longing in my heart to repay them in some way for all of the love and joy and acceptance they gave to me so unconditionally. And I can assure you—this was not something that they were required to do.
I said goodbye to my Dad, my step-mom, Rose, to their two Boston terriers who I was not prepared to fall as deeply in love with as I did. I said goodbye to grandparents in their nineties, who, to be quite honest, I literally do not know if I will see in person again with the insanity that COVID has brought to everyones lives in the aspect of travel. I said goodbye to cousins and their children, who are growing like absolute weeds.
As I sit here now, I’m listening to Van Morrison Radio on Spotify, thinking about all the moments spent in my Dad’s kitchen dancing around with the dogs, singing along to Tupelo Honey while cooking a beautiful dinner alongside Rose for lack of anything else to do with my day. It makes me miss them and those moments we created deeply while simultaneously bringing a profound level of gratitude into my heart.
I then said goodbye to my brother and sister, who flew into Dallas, Texas to meet up with my Mom, Alan, and I. While this was a rough week with us as I was struggling with many of my own internal sentiments and demons, I was so appreciative that they came with their respective girlfriend and boyfriend to spend the time. I wish that week could’ve gone differently with them, but for some reason it had to be that way. I love them immensely, as reflected by the uninhibited flow of tears in our final moments together.
Then I said goodbye to Alan and my step-sister, Melody. Melody is on the severe end of the Autism spectrum, and she truly has taught me so much. She is transitioning into a full time care facility just outside of Dallas, where she can continue to learn, grow, and thrive with other autistic adults. I am going to miss seeing the day-to-day of this beautiful empowerment process for her, but I’m so thankful for FaceTime and updates from Mom and Alan.
Saying goodbye to Alan is always harder than I let on. I love him a lot and am so thankful for the vast amounts of joy and playfulness he has brought my Mom. I gave him a big squeeze, only to receive a sequence of double pats on the upper back, as this is what he does when he is really feeling the love in the moment. Even though I give him shit about it sometimes, it means more to me than he knows.
Naturally, I had to lay on the floor to cuddle with our white German Shepherd, Bahara, one last time. The floor is a natural home for her, my siblings, and I, as she is the best to cuddle with. One of the things that we do altogether is coo “mama” at her, at which point her own speech commences as she delivers the coos right back to us. It is not unheard of for all of us, Mel included, to break into howls of our own in an effort to get Bahara howling as well. These moments are so special to me. I am thankful that she is a puppy, as I know that she will be there when I return. It is such a loud of believing in the certainty of that, illusion or not. Losing our other dog while I was abroad in Spain in August was a heartbreak I didn’t know that I could handle.
Then there’s the goodbye to Mom. No matter what we go through with one another, moments like these get us both. We both have this understanding that life is far too short, and we really just never know. Our drive to the airport was in her Mercedes CLA 250 which is built for Dallas highways, but not in torrential downpours. We were on the verge of hydroplaning for the duration of the hour long drive. It only added to the catharsis of tears that was to come in our final hugs goodbye for the moment. I find myself looking at these words through a wall of tears even as a type, as my Mom and I have a special relationship, in which, even though she has never actually asked, I feel that I am here this time around to take care of her, just as she is here to take care of me. Come to think of it, as someone who has been in a practice of crying and releasing when it comes, this is the first moment in this entire two week quarantine that tears have even knocked on the door of my lacrimal glands, let alone paraded down my cheeks.
And it is okay. What a gift to love so deeply. No matter how much it can hurt at times.
This goodbye is always one of the toughest, no matter what. However the support is felt from a continent away. From all of the amazing people I’ve described thus far.
And I am grateful.
There was a moment in which I almost chose to not come here because of this deep love for all of these amazing humans in my life. For a moment when I confused moving physically close to some reciprocal form of showing someone how much I loved them. But I’ve been set free from this illusion, as this is my time to venture and live my life, knowing that I will find this love with my family and friends that have turned into family no matter where I am on this planet. As a good friend and role model said to me, “The adventure isn’t over yet”. And this is the truth. Love is shown in many ways.
I said goodbye to the comfort of knowing how things would look in my immediate day to day. I said goodbye to the comfort of knowing how to do the things. I said goodbye to the comfort of a quick flight or drive home. I said goodbye to fresh air and daylight for two weeks, to stay in an undetermined hotel with undetermined food served to me for every meal.
I said goodbye to this old self that had gotten so lost and jumbled in her heart in the preceding ten months.
I said goodbye to the illusion of knowing, really, anything. Choosing to say hello to the unknown and everything it has to offer me, no matter how daunting. But I had clarity and conviction that everything I was seeking and needing would be on the other side of these goodbyes and only available for me to fully step into once I plunged into the abyss of the unknown.
While the goodbyes can be petrifying, they can also be freeing. This is a moment to burst out of the marble that’s been holding us, shattering limits, paradigms, and belief systems along with it. This is a moment to step into liberation and communion with who we once were and where we are now going.
Saying we know with certainty is a falsehood, however we can certainly move with conviction towards a vision.
So I said hello to two weeks of solitude.
I said hello to the possibilities that would lie within this time completely alone, with out the distraction of another physical person in my space.
I said hello to an intention I had set weeks ago to find more of me, no matter how challenging it may show up.
I said hello to a checklist of daily writing, reading, and moving.
I said hello to new habits, while I graciously thanked and dismissed old ones that I did not want to carry with me into this new season of life.
I said hello to acceptance of my current situation. No attempts to escape my reality. No departures in my mind. In this moment I am realizing that this has been the absolute key. Being so accepting in each and every moment that it didn’t matter that whether I had days left or minutes. It just…was.
I said hello to presence. To just being here in the now. To not having anywhere else to be or anything else to do. I welcomed the moment. All 20,160 moments.
I said hello to self love and appreciation for where I am and everything that has culminated in me being here, physically, mentally, emotionally, physically.
I said hello, quite obviously, to a new job.
I said hello to grace, as I will not excel at everything instantly, but I damn well will focus all of my energy and intention into doing the very best that I can.
I said hello to being so close to being able to do the thing that brings me life and joy and purpose. As I sit here now I count down the very moments until I can lay my hands on someone, anyone, and adjust them in tandem with their own innate intelligence, and guide them closer to themselves.
I’ve said hello to a version of myself that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. And if I may be totally candid, to a person that I was scared was lost forever.
You see, this time in isolation really could have gone one of two ways. But thank whatever higher power is out there that has guided me back home to myself—deep, deep, deep within. I feel happy and free and lighter than I’ve felt in so long. While I am typically a happy person, this is the version of myself that I’ve been looking for for quite some time. I’ve known that she’s been there all along, as all parts of us always are. But there was so much overlying rubble dampening her signal that no matter how strong the call was, she was nowhere to be found over the last twelve plus months.
I’m not saying I did this perfectly. No way. But I am saying that in these two weeks I’ve put in work. I’ve put in work to find myself, to come back home, to obliterate all of the debris that had been drowning me prior to my arrival here in Singapore. I so strongly set this intention weeks before I came that I cannot deny that it feels as though I had some outside help from some conspiring and supporting force.
And I am so grateful.
And so in love with this person I am looking at in the mirror, coming out on the other side of this, what could’ve been, a total waste of time for someone who chose to use it differently—not better or worse.
But I am relieved that my will was strong enough to catapult me into this upgraded way of being, as the Gab I knew before just wasn’t serving the soul that lies within me. The very soul that is here for big things.
I am winding down this extended moment of alone time feeling more on purpose than I have since beginning chiropractic school.
I have direction. I have my creation. I have projects.
I don’t always have a how, and that is okay.
But I have a why.
And I am feeling closer and more connected to that why that I ever could’ve dreamed.
So did the goodbyes suck?
Candidly—fuck yeah, they did.
Did I come out alive on the other side?
You’re damn straight I did. With some life to spare.
Did the joy and peace of surrendering to the hellos make up for the gnawing pangs of the goodbyes?
In a way that words cannot describe.
Really, it is not something I can explain in English nor in French. Rather it is a feeling that I hope I’ve been able to convey through this stream of consciousness. A feeling that gives you even just a little bit more permission to trust in what may be laying on the other side of the illusion of what we know to be true.
If I’ve done that, then my work here is done. If I haven’t quite convinced you, may I recommend a two week period in total isolation with three square meals a day delivered to you?
We might just find our very selves on the other side.
