As much as I’ve wanted to, I haven’t been fully able to let go of the past. I kept thinking about what happened, what should have happened, what I did, what I didn’t do… Everyone, including myself, has had a suggestion about how to let go and move on. And I’ve tried just about all of them: meditation, writing, dancing, talking, not talking, visionboards, Hawaiian vacations, cutting cords – even moving. None of it really worked. Ok maybe Maui, a little.
Because I wasn’t ready. Not out of choice, but timing – other things still needed to happen.
“You just weren’t ready,” explained a wise friend. “It’s like trying to put a baby on a 2-wheeler bike. Their legs aren’t long enough.”
The mind might have been willing but my body – not so much.
Yesterday was Yom Kippur, and spiritually an opportunity for great change. Kabbalists believe it’s a day to rid the world of negativity and hatred. I’ve experienced three of these holidays since embarking on this journey to hell and back, and each year I was more and more determined that it would be THE year I moved forward. Only I didn’t. Or so it seemed.
What I’m finally realizing is that it wasn’t entirely up to me. There were other pieces at play. Other information that needed to be revealed before I could make enough sense of things to do that.
These things take time. And fighting the process, denying it or forcing it doesn’t seem to speed it up. Only makes it more painful.
Things happen when they’re meant to happen, and not a moment sooner. Whether we like it or not.
I’m reminded of this as I now helplessly watch my ex – currently going through his own journey. He’s deploying to Kuwait next week, an unexpected tour of duty that is being forced upon him as his father is sick and getting sicker. He doesn’t know what will happen while he’s gone for at least a year. And the guilt and pain this is causing him is so palpable, I ache to do something – anything – to help. I even offered to rip my arm off, if it would help ease his pain.
“Well, that wouldn’t help anything,” he pointed out. Still the charming smart ass, even in a crisis.
Truth is, there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help him – except send him my love. This is his process and journey. And check in/be there when and if he needs anything. Which is all I’ve really needed or wanted from MY friends these past few years. Some have been amazing about it, some not so much. Things happened when and how they’re supposed to, I guess. We’re all on our own paths. And timing.
Only then can you get off and truly move on.