“When people walk away from you, let them go. Your destiny is never tied to anyone who leaves you, and it doesn’t mean they are bad people. It just means that their part in your story is over.” – T.D. Jakes
One thing my parents never told me was that, by no one’s fault, on a sunny or rainy or windy day, or on a day that simply is, people would go on their way and that’s that. I went through holding onto friendships the way a baby koala bear holds onto its mother’s back, as if the fall means the end. It doesn’t. It’s a fall. Often a bruising one, but a fall and nothing else. Hurting is implied but does not always happen.
I love meeting people and I choose to think of each of them as forests. I am one too, if we apply the same rule. Some forests are bright and sunny and pulsating with life and they go on forever, and you walk through them and discover worlds and wonders, of yourself, of the “forest” and of the friendship that is or becomes.
Others are deep, dark forests, often gloomy and difficult to stroll through, not by anyone’s fault but because things are a certain way and that’s that. So you take a few steps and then reach for a way out. Ever so gently, kind and forgiving, you’ll keep walking and leave the woods you don’t belong in behind.
As you go through life you traverse many forests and the memory of some will haunt you rather painfully, while others will huddle up sweet and bright near your soul for the rest of your journey. Different shaped worlds, different in how the sun sparkled through rich leafy branches or slumped its way through barren ones, all of them shaping your world and the forest you will become as you go.
And you never know from the very beginning what you need, but once you take a few steps you do. There’s also the little voice inside that tells you if you are on the right path or not. You may say “nah” for a while, shake your head incredulously because how could that be. And then you learn to heed the voice as you walk through life. It’s like swimming in a way: We do it instinctively for a few months after we’re born but then it’s all forgotten or tucked away in a corner of our brain until we learn it again.
I think it’s fair to know the woods you’re in, and not disturb the leaves once you know you’ll trace your steps out of there soon. By no one’s fault, that is, but because it is fair to do so just like it is fair to expect that others will not disturb the paths in your neck of the woods unless they have a reason.
It is or it isn’t, that’s what it comes down to. I do not want to pretend that I have words to speak and thoughts to share when I don’t. I do not want others to pretend they have thoughts to share or words to speak when they don’t. The truth shall set you free, you must know that one. It’s like that. You admit it to yourself, the truth I mean, and it’s nothing but proper and respectful to the ones you come across.
Sometimes, by no one’s fault, on a sunny or cloudy day, or on a day that just is, you may walk out of someone’s life, after your part in their journey is done. And if there’s nothing else to leave in those forests life happens you upon, then you’ll thank for the shade, you’ll thank for the soft morning songs you got to know while traversing, and just as softly you’ll be on your way.
I don’t believe in crowds of people walking through my door, unless every one of them is there for the right reasons. I believe in having those who want to be walking through my door, I believe in being offered the gift of being myself and me offering the gift of letting those around me be themselves.
I have no filler people in my life, no plan B friends in case plan A fails. Just like I don’t think there are friends, best friends and best of the best. Life is no dojo with different colored belts. I sure hope I am no orange belt in someone’s life either. Because what if I don’t make it higher? It’ll make me doubt that I even made it that far to begin with. Self-doubt is a beast you don’t want to meet on a dark path as you’re strolling through some unknown woods.
Acceptance is what it comes down to. The old story I keep bringing up. You can call it the starting point but I say it’s not. It’s what becomes once you know the deep pockets of the forest you’re strolling through and accept them as such. You know the muddy patches and you’re fine with them. You have your own.
If it’s not the real thing then it’s worth nothing. It’ll peel off sooner and later. And that is also beneficial. More sun will shine through. I believe this makes a decent amount of sense. Perhaps?