On Departures
There’s something about departures that sticks in the heart, isn’t there? They’re both an end and a beginning, a moment of standing still before stepping forward. Departures are the punctuation marks in our stories—sometimes a pause, sometimes a leap, but always a signal that something is about to change.
Right now, I’m standing on the edge of a departure, suitcase by the door and heart full of questions. Leaving is never simple. It’s a delicate braid of excitement and longing, anticipation and grief. To leave one place is to reach for another, but it’s also to acknowledge the quiet ache of letting go.
There’s the practical side of leaving, of course. Tickets are purchased, bags are packed, and plans are made. I’ve checked my lists (twice, maybe three times) to be sure I’ve got everything I need—passport, favorite pen, snacks for the journey. But the real work of departure isn’t in the packing. It’s in the heart.
To depart is to trust that what you’re leaving behind will still be there, in some form, when you return—or, perhaps, to accept that it won’t. It’s a reckoning with the inevitability of change.
And yet, departures carry their own kind of beauty. They are acts of bravery, aren’t they? To step into the unknown, to leave behind what is familiar, to walk toward something that hasn’t yet taken shape—this requires a specific kind of courage.
Departures are filled with questions:
What will I find when I get there?
What will I lose along the way?
How will this change me?
But they are also filled with possibilities. Every departure holds the promise of discovery, of growth, of becoming. There is something magical about the moment a plane lifts off, a train pulls away, or a car engine hums to life. It’s a reminder that we are always in motion, always moving toward the next chapter.
As I prepare to leave—Paris first, then the quiet hills of the French countryside—I’m holding all of this. The sadness of saying goodbye, the joy of saying hello, and the quiet knowing that what lies ahead is worth the leap.
Here’s to the beauty of departures: the endings that make way for beginnings, the leaving that makes room for arriving, the courage to take the first step. Wherever you are in your journey—whether you’re standing at the edge or already in motion—may you carry what you need and trust the rest to unfold as it will.
Safe travels, dear ones. And remember: every departure is a story waiting to be written.
With love,
—Beth