I Love A Good Goodbye
Musical Selection: Summer Breeze|Seals & Croft
I did not realize how much I needed a vacation until I was sleeping in someone else’s bed. Time away . . . time away from life as one might know it can be the best thing if we are open to allowing ourselves the care we need in order to move forward in life. I found myself ecstatic for the trip to Alaska more so than any other “mini” vacation I have taken this year, mainly because I knew I’d be around people I love and care for and would experience sights and scenes bigger than my imagination.
To say that I was in awe on more occasions than I care to count would be an understatement of gigantic proportions. I found some of myself yearning to live and come alive while in Alaska and I brought some of that self back home with me.
If you allowed me to, I would have stayed planted near the mountainside, gazing at the small waterfall, and letting the breeze from the water gently hit my face. The sun shines just enough to remind me that it’s alive and the air is wispy without the heavy burden of humidity riding its shoulders. I wanted to drift away. Often, while experiencing this kind of peace there, I asked myself, “Can I just drift away?” The rush of the water came pouring in while I stood by its side and I could feel my heart opening up. I could feel my limbs loosening and my neck became less tense. I was losing myself . . . I was losing myself in a place where many want to get lost but most are afraid to. I was tripping in a very good way and I loved it. Every minute of it!
To be free — alive and free and gifted with the ability to leave a crowd awestruck is what many would like in life. It’s what they hope to achieve. If we are intelligent enough and can find the time to silence our voices, we can look around and see just how overwhelmingly sound other animals are without overdoing it like some of us do. They aren’t into painting the town red, spending money they do not have, running after what the Jones’ flaunt, and they could not give one damn about what the future has in store for them. They are living in the now. The now is all that matters.
Watching my momentary friend for just a few minutes of his time led me to believe that I, at times, crave being an overachiever than I do simply living. This is where peak stress comes into play. I cause it. I hurl into my direction. This little guy above taught me that all I need is the now — everything else comes later. “Live for the now, Tre. Live for the now.”
The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace. — Exodus, 14:14 NKJV
I fight too much: I fight my past. I fight my present. I fight my shadow. I fight all there was of me and all that is to come and I wonder why I am often dog tired from day-to-day. In Alaska, I was in a place where beautiful creations from a God who never breaks a promise surrounded me and all I could do was willfully admire his artwork. I let my guard down. I put away my sword and threw away the knives. I did not want to fight anymore. I made a pact that my days of fighting for the cause of simply to take myself down are over and done. If I am going to fight, it will be to bring peace, love, and the overall understanding of one another to those in my life. In a sense, I feel as though, I am obligated to do this.
I have learned and will continue to study what makes me tick — what sets off my anger or my sadness or my total disdain for living. When you have nature touching you from every angle, you will either fall victim to its undeniable ability to pull you in or you will continue to be stubborn. I am choosing to be less stubborn.
I have had my share of goodbyes in life. Some, I caused. Others came because it was simply time for them. But saying goodbye to Alaska did not seem like “Goodbye.” It felt more like, “See you soon.” At one point, I thought about having this wondrous place embedded into every other city around me just to be one with its beauty on a daily basis. There is no need for that. I have it now. It is all over my skin. My pores open up to its windy nights and long days. My body clock has not yet tapped back into its true self and I can feel my soul snapping back into action.
I have not said goodbye. We have not truly parted ways. Is it so that one can fall in love with one’s surroundings and completely lose oneself in the midst of it all? If it is, then I may not be getting back up anytime soon.
I love a good goodbye, especially when it is not goodbye at all.
©2019 Tremaine L. Loadholt. All Rights Reserved
