Time to let go
After three years, we gave back the little house on the beach and enjoyed one last moment of summer.
The last day of September set the mood for the new week with a colorful sunrise. The wet days were over for now and October began with lots of sunshine and a beautiful, autumnal atmosphere. Although I didn’t consciously experience too much of it. The days flew by with unspectacular activities that didn’t result in any photos. Evening walks in the neighborhood after dinner provided some variety and were always pleasant.
Back to the beach
On Friday, we got up early and took the train and ferry to Fire Island. Over the last few weeks, we’ve been thinking back and forth a lot and in the end we decided to stop renting the house where we’ve spent our summers for the last three years. We had a great time out there. The direct proximity to the ocean, the sound of the waves at night and the singing of the birds during the day. The sunrises on the beach, yoga in the sand or jogging in the Sunken Forest and the dunes, which I loved so much. The people I got to know and love and of course the hours on the beach, naked in the sun with a book, interspersed with cooling off in the ocean waves.
Opting for the unknown
The perfect environment to switch off and let go of everything else that takes over your life. In front of you was just the Atlantic Ocean and a vast sky. A seemingly endless emptiness behind which the rest of life was hidden and which left so much room for dreams, ideas and new projects that you could dream up. Actually, there would have been nothing wrong with staying and continuing to relax there in the summer. But somehow there is also the feeling of having seen everything and the desire to go one step further. Which direction is still unclear and that makes the whole thing exciting. For now, it’s a leap, a decision to leave something behind. It’s a sign that you’re open to new things and curious about what lies ahead.
Packing up
Even if melancholy still prevails at the moment… I would have liked to go for another run, but there wasn’t enough time. It was enough though, to lie in the warm sand for one last hour, walk in the waves and collect shells, of which I already have far too many. One last moment of summer happiness. Then it was off to sort out everything in the house that we no longer needed and pack the rest into two large suitcases. One last drink in a bar and then onto the ferry and watch everything disappear on the horizon as we sailed across the Great South Bay back on Long Island.
A poem of consolation
In moments like these, Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke always comes to mind, his poem “You don’t have to understand life” about the child who accepts everything that comes his way and doesn’t worry about letting it go again in order to be open to new things.
Du musst das Leben nicht verstehen
Du musst das Leben nicht verstehen,
dann wird es werden wie ein Fest.
Und lass dir jeden Tag geschehen
so wie ein Kind im Weitergehen von jedem Wehen
sich viele Blüten schenken lässt.
Sie aufzusammeln und zu sparen,
das kommt dem Kind nicht in den Sinn.
Es löst sie leise aus den Haaren,
drin sie so gern gefangen waren,
und hält den lieben jungen Jahren
nach neuen seine Hände hin.
You don’t have to understand life
You don’t have to understand life,
then it will be like a celebration.
And let every day happen to you
like a child while moving on
accepts every blossom the breeze brings along.
Picking them up and saving them,
does not occur to the child.
It quietly releases them from its hair,
in which they were so gladly caught,
and holds out his hands to the dear young years
for new ones.
Moving on
On arrival in the turbulent city, everything was already far away and the weekend and other impressions were waiting to be discovered and experienced with their contrasting appeal. So the week left its mark on my heart, bringing blossoms of joy and blossoms that were less joyful, just as life is. Nothing that you couldn’t quietly release out of your hair.