#76: The reason winter precedes spring.
Why and how to intentionally release friends, jobs, dreams that no longer fit.
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“I am indebted to all my friendships. The abiding ones and those which, for whatever reason, ran their course.”
I stumbled upon this quote in the acknowledgements of author Hisham Matar’s new novel, My Friends. He’d immersed me in a world of Libyan exiles living in Thatcher-era London, longing for home yet creating a chosen family. Loving each other and their adopted city. Drifting apart as time, tragedy, family, and priorities changed their trajectories.
I was struck by Matar’s gentle recognition that some friendships endure while others are only for a season, without labelling one as better than the other. Both kinds inspired his novel. Both kinds enriched his life.
Yet as a society, we don’t look at this both/and. We think friendships should last forever.
And if they don’t, the only explanation is that someone did something wrong.
Friendships are not the only thing we hold onto past their prime.
Jobs. Homes. Decisions. Aspirations.
Is it scarcity mentality, fear of “failing”, or dread of the unknown that makes us grasp onto past choices that are no longer serving us? Maybe all of the above.
And if we are “unfortunate” enough to experience loss, we tend take it personally. (“Unfortunate” is in quotes because loss visits all of us, there are no lucky and unlucky in this realm.) “If I could have just done something differently, maybe it could have worked out differently.”
Or we assume the other side of the friendship, the job, the whatever was the problem. Either way, one factor had to be deficient in order to explain why the sum crumbled.
When loss is consistently seen as the worst-case scenario, the only explanation for it can be failure. So the only way to meet it is by fighting against it.
I’ve declared, “I’m not a quitter,” more times than I can count. But I see now that stubbornness was hiding a fear of impermanence. Letting go of something that we’ve outgrown isn’t quitting. (Can you imagine someone trying to smush their foot into a shoe that no longer fits while grumbling, “I ain’t no quitter…”?) Letting go is an act of courage. Courage to embrace our evolution, and courage to believe something that fits us better is around the corner.
We grow, not all at the same rate, not all in the same direction as the people, communities, jobs, companies, even physical environments, towns, homes that surround us.
We humans are starbursts, not inchworms. Our way forward is blessedly unpredictable.
Maybe this is the crux of the matter. Immersed in the wildness of the world, we yearn for something — anything! — stable to hold onto. It’s said that the only thing we can control is ourselves. (Ok, I’ve even said it.) So perhaps we hold extra tight onto our own constancy… but we are as ever-changing as the earth from which we were born.
Nature brings me my favorite metaphors.
Because we are part of nature.
When I’m able to step back and see things through the lens of natural rhythms, loss looks less like personal failure and more like the cyclicality of life.
The tree drops its leaves every single year. The river erodes its bank, creating another that suits it better. The sun, even the sun, breaks its daily streak to duck behind the moon.
Release people, jobs, even dreams. Give them wings. In the process you naturally release yourself… to find someone new to cross stitch with, mountain bike with, debate the merits of Coke Zero with. To find a job that lights you up, not weighs you down. To find adventure in a new town, a new block, a new walking route.
And whenever you can, let them go with grace.
That way, we lose the friend, job, or house, but get to keep the love we had for them. Rather than holding on so long all we feel is resentment.
Embracing loss,
Oh my friend. This essay spoke to me in ways you cannot know. Ok maybe you do ;-) Thank you. I hold on to most everything too long. I have an attic and a crawl space that can attest to that. I beat myself up for not keeping in touch with friends, when no doubt our friendships have run their course. I’ve let my blog become old and stale and virtually dead because I thought I couldn’t let it evolve.
And you’re right that some things endure. I’ve recently added songs that remind me of Adam, my late husband, so my current playlist. I’m able to listen to some of them with little effect other than nostalgia. However “Kite” and “Everything I Own” sent big rollers down my cheeks as I drove to the beach yesterday.
Anyway, thanks as always for figuring out what I need to hear and writing it down. I mean, it’s all about me, right? 😂
Happy Saturday. .
I love this. I have many friends from my past I don't talk to anymore, but still think of them favorably. It's funny how people come into and out of our lives, as if their purpose is to sustain us for a short period of time.