Rooting and Uprooting

I write this with fewer than 30 days before my inevitable departure to a new life. I have only one box packed, an apartment in disarray, and feelings torn between sad longing and absolute joy. Each day brings new excitement about the days to come, and each moment not packing makes the eventual packing more epic.

I've had an ivy plant for about ten years, and sadly/finally, it has died. It has seen its life, filled with love and sunshine, but now, its roots are dry, its soil devoid of any more nutrients. After nearly a decade, I had to throw my plant into the brush, symbolizing the end of an era. When I bought that little ivy, I myself was a young, small newling, barely 18, setting down roots and boldly making a life. Now, I am uprooting, despite all the days and hours of happiness and love. It is time to throw myself into the unknown, into new lands and lay my roots in new soil.

I cleaned the pot. DEEP cleaned it. The stains of a decade of dirt are gone. IT IS ALL BRAND NEW.

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."