On the eve of your move

I've moved many times. I've said goodbye a lot, sometimes with tears. I've also said hello a lot and that takes a lot of smiling.

An imaginary, melancholy mistress visits me in these times of transition. She tells me about Then, This and There. Then are the moments and memories that led to This, which is the pregnant pause before the leap to There. She holds my hand during This and tells me stories about Then. She tells my stories in a way that makes them sound like I'd not heard them before. I notice details I had missed: A deep, knowing smile in the eye of a friend I ran into at a coffee shop, a shy brush against the arm from a girl I had a crush on, a word in a conversation that really meant something different than how I understood it… so many details.

Now the wheels are set in motion and there is no stopping. The desire to see a new life chapter play out is greater than the sorrow of goodbye. Or maybe the nomadic fear of getting stuck is greater than just about everything else.

Dear friend, on the eve of your move, remember This. Remember the moment the sun went down and the world hushed. Remember the melancholy mistress who held your hand. Tomorrow when you wake, you will find a compass in it. It will help you There.