leaving behind


Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.

leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs-

leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star. 

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

I am leaving the Farm behind Tuesday morning, setting off for a week in Jamaica with my family; a wedding; saying goodbye to my brothers' singleton-dom. I am also being left behind while I am gone. Bestie Mummy Dearest and family begin their move to North Carolina, leaving behind family and friends here for the next great adventure. 

It is hard to be left behind, to not be sucked under by the undertow, the roar of an ocean in my ears screaming, "Move too! Adventures will follow! Start anew!" The thought of moving always makes me question "where I am in life," and "what am I supposed to be doing!?" So, I am glad for the time away this week, time for thinking and relaxing and quiet, but will be sad at the coming back to a definite hole in my life here in MA.

I probably won't be posting much for the next week, so be well.


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