The sun is setting over Pittwater Bay, close to the Northern Beaches of Sydney, Australia. A cool tropical breeze moves the palm trees across the pale blue sky. Our son, Connor, is off with our friend’s 16-year-old son, Tallis, and my bride, Candace, is teaching her last private yoga class before we head home.The wind is picking up, as do the wind chimes, the parakeets chatter, and for all the noise, a quiet begins to descend.
I’m sitting at the old, long wooden table I spent early hours several years ago writing One Less. One More. Same computer, same spot, and yet now it feels like ages ago and world’s away. And tomorrow, like every trip, we must leave.
From our birth, we are saying goodbyes. We must leave our mother’s womb in order to begin life. We must leave home to go to school and off to work. As we age, we say goodbye to loved one’s, sometimes in a move, at other times in death. That is the cadence of our existence. From one spot to the next. Sometimes by choice, often not.
I’m much better at hellos than I am at goodbyes. On arrival, I’m the big dancing bear, full of joy and exuberance, usually bearing gifts and an abundance of chatter. And when I leave, I’m quiet, feeling smaller, and often, sad. Yet I know for every goodbye, there is another hello. Even at the end of my life, in my belief system, there will be another hello, a new journey, an opportunity to share and expand my love.
Goodbye Australia. Goodbye Sydney. Thank you a million times, thank you, Lollback Family. Thank you, a2 Milk company. Thank you to the NSW fire fighters, Church Point, Lindt Cafe, Port Stephens, Bondi, Coogee, GroupM, AuthentInk, and more and more. We leave fulfilled, grateful, excited for our new adventure, and yet, in truth, a bit sad. Because when you give all of your heart and soul to something, you leave that energetic part of you behind.
Australia, I bow to you in thanks.