Last. The last time you nurse your baby, or they crawl before they walk. The last conversation with, or time you see someone. Your last day at a job. We often don’t know if something is a last until we look in the rear-view mirror. It is an end that we only know in hindsight when we look back and reflect on that being the last.
There are other times where the last is planned; when you know a chapter is ending. Last month, I attended the last Campowerment Classic Camp. Camps are retreats for women to step out of their day-to-day, look deeper into themselves and be supported by the community. You find what you are supposed to in the experience of connection and play. The attendees knew they were going to the last camp when the founders announced that they would be ending this chapter of their business. The announcement helped many women attend who thought they might skip this year in favor of the next. Without a next, there was a sense of urgency to be there and have this experience one more time.
There was a fear that knowing it was a last would add melancholy to the weekend. Quite the opposite. Each participant entered the space fully open to drink deep from the well and get as much out of every moment. The anticipation was not of loss but of not experiencing every aspect. It was an interesting turn to the notion of last. A positive, a desire for fullness.
This is also my last month of month-to-month nomad life. The original intent was to try this for 8 months and then make a decision about my next. 8 months have turned into 18 and the experience feels complete. This last is again not about melancholy but wholeness; seeing this adventure as complete (for now) and pivoting to how I want to move forward, with the knowledge and experience I have gained. And like camp, I am not experiencing October grieving, but rather, fully present, enjoying the exact reason I chose to end after a month in VT: the colors, the crisp air, nature, water, feeling grounded and secure in where I have been.
Thank you for sharing and supporting the last 18 months. This is not an end, but a fresh beginning. And not the last you will hear from me.
Comentários