IT'S A GREY, SPITTY, SULLEN KINDA SUNDAY, A DAY DEVOID OF INSPIRATION OR INTEREST OR MUCH OF ANYTHING EXCEPT MUSIC.
I LOVE THIS SONG CALLED PHOTOGRAPH, BY CANADA'S NICKELBACK. LISTEN TO THE WORDS. WATCH THE VIDEO.
We all have back doors we looked out of every morning as kids, when we knew nothing but wanted to know everything, where we couldn't know what we'd have to say goodbye to because we were saying hello to everything.
Our lives were about simple things like walking past the same houses and the same people on our way to school, playing the same sports with the same friends, finding out who we were and who we wondered we could be.
Our first fight. Our first kiss. Our first breakup and first broken hearts. Our first jobs. Our first "real jobs." Our first drink. Our first time passing out or throwing up because of that drink.
Our first experience with death. The first time we made love. The first time we got behind the wheel of a car. The first time we voted. For some, seeing our first child born. For some, seeing our first marriage come and go.
We never stop saying hello because we'd die if we did...we need the happiness and challenge and excitement of taking on new things and knowing new people and we have to say hello for that to happen.
But saying hello can bring with it some risk and some pain. And that pain can stay around a long time if you can't say goodbye to it -- not to erase the experience altogether, because it just doesn't happen that way.
But just to accept that it's there, you survived it, you can't change it. And it needs to go, or at least the pain associated with it.
In my experience, it seems that before we can say hello to something or someone new, we have to say goodbye to things or people that in some cases we don't want to let go of.
Who or what do you have to say goodbye to so you can start to say hello again?