“Is this what dying feels like?”, I thought to myself as I stuffed the last pair of jeans into a heavy duty garbage bag. I realized how hyperbolic that statement was, but the surge of emotions that accompanied it felt quite true.
Although the plan is to leave the country for just 7 weeks, In that moment I felt as if I was leaving for a lifetime. I knew I would (most likely =P) be returning, but I had to ask myself, “what is it that I am leaving behind?” – my room and most of my belongings, my friendships and their physical presence, my job and it’s chaotic security, and my daily routine (not that I feel super attached to it anyway). It felt like a break-up of sorts, or at least, ‘taking a break’.
The last time I left the country, I changed in ways that I couldn’t have imagined. I have no specific expectations for this trip, but I don’t doubt that I will feel a significant impact because of it. Perhaps in that way, traveling is like entering a new relationship; wonder, mixed with joy, topped with a few challanges, and caked in the complete surrender of the unknown.
But in this instance, I suppose I am entering into a new relationship with myself, leaving parts of me behind, and being open to aspects of that have yet to come.
And as with any interaction where vulnerability is necessary, I believe that there’ll be things to gain, to lose, and to learn.
So although I am not dying in the material sense (well, technically we’re all ‘dying’ as soon as we’re born, but nonetheless, all due respect to those who have experienced the prescience of death), there is a death of sorts – a feeling of loss, and movement away from something, physically, mentally and spiritually.
But I must say, I do look forward, with mind and heart open, to what has yet to come. ❤