And the rains came today … the day before my life changes quite dramatically. The day before I move. Yes, the skies opened up here in New York City with a torrential downpour. I like to think the city is crying on the eve of my departure after our 11 wonderful and wild years together … or perhaps inviting me to cry, to feel, to grieve, to take it all in.
So … that’s what I did.
After we said goodbye to my son’s friends and teachers at his school, I cried.
After my son took his final nap in his room (the only room he’s had since we brought him home from the hospital 20 months ago), I cried. I looked around and saw the boxes, the memories, the colors, the toys, the things, the life.
We said goodbye to Sean’s babysitter who has been with us since he was 5 months old. She’s part of our family … and we’ll miss her.
We said goodbye to Sean as his grandparents took him to their home to sleep for the night so mom and dad can deal with the movers on our own tomorrow. Already, we miss our son. Without him, it’s too quiet, too tame, too easy.
As I sat down on my couch after such a momentous day of preparing to move on, I heard the lyrics of a beautiful song by The Avett Brothers I had heard before, but never really listened to. The song – “head full of doubt road full of promise” – had a direct line to my soul. It was like the radio station (Coffeehouse Rock – how I love thee!) knew exactly what I needed at that time. I sat still and took it all in. I put my head on my husband’s shoulder and cried.
My favorite line:
“There was a dream, and one day I could see it, like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it.”
This. Is. My. Truth.
I finally saw my new dream this summer … my dream of where I was supposed to live with my family now that we’ve outgrown New York City. A dream that we knew was out there, but couldn’t put a face on. Didn’t have a name for. Now we know … and now … we go.
Because our old dream is not our new dream … and that’s okay. Dreams change, people change, lives change.
And although I have such clarity around what I’m doing and where I’m going, I had to remind myself today: it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to slow down, to be sad, to grieve, to let the emotions come at you like a wave. It’s okay. It’s part of the process. You don’t have to put on the brave face all the time. You can be scared and vulnerable and human.
You can feel. And you can cry.
Believe me, I know. I’ve tried the other approach … where you stuff your feelings away and think that everything is easier if you DON’T deal with the messy stuff. It’s not. The tough feelings and hurts and sadness finds you when you least expect it to … even if it takes years. And you’ll spend way too much time running, running, running. It’s not worth the exhaustion, trust me.
It’s okay … dive into the feelings. Swim around for a while. You are supported, taken care of, protected.
I’ll tell you what happens after the tears flow: you feel lighter. You feel cleansed, reborn, free. You feel … closer to YOU. Connected to source, power, love, truth.
So go ahead …. let the tears flow. Ride the waves as they take you closer to seeing your dream. Live free.