I don’t exactly know how to write this post. All I know is it needs to be short, like the subject itself. It probably won’t be though since I’m coming at this via stream of consciousness. This is a post about closure, about how no one can give it to you but yourself, about how quite literally the rule of ripping off a bandaid applies here as well. Do it quickly, love. Because when closure does come it’s a tidal wave of peace, and it is so familiar because you’ve been here before. You just lost yourself for a moment. But even writing a blog post on closure feels like a hindrance to actually achieving it, which only comes when you finally stop analyzing a situation and accept it for what it is—which is, over.
Usually I never want it to be over, but it doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is what is, and what is unfolds perfectly. No matter how many mistakes you or I make, what’s supposed to happen happens. No matter how it hurts or how wrong it feels, each step is a step in the right direction. It’s funny though, because even as I write this I have a hard time believing it. I bet you’re struggling too. But I know it’s true and I accept it, and I hope you all do too. Whatever ending your currently dealing with, as long as your heart is in the right place, I promise you it is aligned with your highest good.
Every ending I’ve suffered has led me to a better place. Every ending has by some miracle made me less bitter and more understanding that we’re all just so different. While it is a devastating realization every time, it is beautiful and it is necessary.
My heart is different from your heart, but we both come from places of love. Even so, with all our good intentions, we still do not meet. You show up 20 minutes late to the platform and I have already taken the first train out. But in your defense, you weren’t late, you were right on time. It’s no one’s fault really, and that’s the key—to stop placing blame. Endings, just as beginnings, are natural. The obsession with who was in the right and who was in the wrong comes from a desire to pass judgment on one another. This judgment serves as an anesthetic to the pain we’re feeling. But it’s temporary, and when it wears off we’re still left feeling it—sometimes more than we did before. Endings are transformative. We should be grateful for whatever experience we had because when we live presently we learn constantly, and all lessons are valuable. Take comfort in knowing you didn’t choose wrong. You didn’t mess up again. You didn’t trust too soon. Breathe. Reflect. Accept. Release.
And who knows, maybe someday (if you’re lucky) my connecting train will be delayed. You’ll unknowingly board the same car and take the seat across from me. I’ll smile. You’ll smile. Closure reminds me not to count on it, but Serendipity says God, that sure would be dreamy.
2 thoughts on “full stop.”
Absolutely beautiful. The ending…that Serendipity…dreamy is right. Your post reminds me of philosopher Alan Watts “The greater part of human activity is designed to make permanent those experiences and joys which are only lovable because they are changing.” That gave me a lot of clarity and peace recently. The Rose is only beautiful because each fall its petals fall away and we must wait until spring for another to appear. A river is only beautiful because it continues to flow. It can be hard to accept these truths but it doesn’t make it any less so.
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Good advice….You got right to the point.