Transitions

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. 
--Dan Wilson

Every time I hit a big transition, I feel a little torn up inside. This time around, I'm wondering what it's like to be the type of person who moves on without ever looking back; who doesn't form deep connections to things, places, life phases, or even people.  What do they call individuals like me? Sentimentalists? Emotional wrecks? Human...?


I'm not entirely sure what's so hard about it--knowing that the first month or so of something new is always hard? Letting go of what's been familiar and comfortable for a long time? Both. And more: knowing that even if you go back to where you formed all of the fond memories, it will never be the same. Everything will feel strange, like putting on your favorite shirt only to find that throwing it in the dryer was a huge mistake.

I know this is all a little gloom-and-doomy, but transitions really do hurt. Unlike the shrunken shirt, though, they aren't mistakes. And ultimately, as one volume of my life's encyclopedia wraps up, there's still a library's worth of lessons to be learned, all punctuated by transitional book-ends marking the next learning adventure. It's incredible when I think about everything I've learned in the past nine years. I remember moving down to Provo as a new freshman--determined to be independent, yet not having any idea how much I would always still need my family. It's fascinating to look back when I'm at the end of that beginning.


Now, it's time to "go forth to serve," so I guess this is it. Good-bye, BYU. Hello France and everything that lies beyond.