Sometimes to move forward, you have to move on

Palermo, Sicily

It has been a few months since I found myself thrown into a pit. For a while, I felt I was on uneven ground: I would land on a ledge, and then the wind would come by, and knock me deeper.

Eventually it settled, and I got my bearings: I could see how things were from where I standing.

It was time I began to dig myself out. I looked up, towards the light above. Slowly, one hand at a time, I would grab onto the dirt walls to pull myself up. Sometimes, I managed a step or two, finding something to grasp onto, but ultimately, I would lose my grip, and fall down. And more dirt, the dirt I had been digging my fingers into thinking it would save me, would fall on top of me.

For a while now, I have been insistent on reaching the top, reaching what I thought was the light. I thought: this is the only way forward, this is the only way out. But doing so kept me stuck on the same path that I had fallen down.

It didn’t occur to me that there could be another way, even though many people tried to tell me so. It’s not that I couldn’t hear them: I was just determined to do this my way. I thought, I want to do what I want to do, even if it means that I’m not really getting anywhere. Even if it means that every time I fall down it opens up the wounds that haven’t even begun to heal: the hurt, the heartache. Even if it makes them worse. I was determined. Stubborn. But I was being crushed.

And as it happens, you can listen to advice many times over, but you won’t really hear it until you are ready.

Finally, inevitably, I reached the point of exhaustion. I had to stop. I took a breath, and that was it. I realized it was time to pause, to take a break, and then when I am ready, to try something new. In this moment, for the first time in weeks, I felt myself exhale. And in this moment for the first time in weeks, I felt a peacefulness wash over me.

I am finishing this chapter. I am writing not “the end,” but “the end, for now.” Because, you never know.

*

I don’t know what lies beyond these dirt walls, I don’t know what I will uncover when I begin to dust off the surface of what this city, this island, this world has to offer. And I know, that like it took me more than a few tries to stumble upon the place I am leaving behind, I may have to give more than one thing a go before I find what strikes me next. It is scary, to do something new. To put yourself out there. To be the “new girl,” the stranger, the beginner. But it is also something I deeply believe in doing. I will always advocate for trying new things, new experiences. It makes life so much richer. You make so many memories, of which you can look back on and smile. You gain so many friends along the way, whom you keep always in your heart. You have so many places that you can always return to.

I am absolutely not saying that it is easy to do. To walk away can be like pulling at a thousand ropes holding you back before they release you, and without you really wanting to go. You have to commit before you know what’s going to come next. But I can say that all my goodbyes have led me to new hellos. And that while some goodbyes are for good, others are not. Some are just “see you laters.” Of all the places I have wanted to stay, I can say that I would be remiss if I hadn’t met the people and places who were coming next. So I know I can start again.

But it’s me who has to take that step. And it’s just that it’s been a while since I’ve had to take my own advice.

love,

greer