I could say that the pain and sorrow of letting go are just steps on your ‘path’ (though I won’t because, honestly, right now am hurting and nothing makes sense). I could say that the insights you gain will guide you toward the life you’re meant to have. I could say all of that, and it would be true, but having experienced heartbreak myself, I know that none of those platitudes help when you're clinging on for dear life like a cat on a screen door.
So, what brought on those thoughts, today? For the sake of this story, let’s call them Alex. It was an ordinary morning until Alex walked into my office, carrying an unspoken weight in their eyes. The air felt different, heavy with anticipation, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. My gut had been hinting at this moment for the past month, but nothing prepared me for the reality. Alex was here to resign.
My dear colleague, my confidant in countless office escapades and partner in crime through thick and thin, was leaving. It felt like a piece of my daily life was suddenly ripped away. I’ve always tried to practice the Buddhist concept of Loving Detachment, accepting that people and situations are transient. But let's be honest—detachment is a lot easier to preach than to practice, especially when it comes to people who have woven themselves into the fabric of your everyday existence.
My mind is racing, I’m trying to breathe and control my emotions. I can’t cry—I’m at work, after all—and trust me, if I started the waterworks, we’d have Noah’s Ark floating down the hallway. My heart aches, and I don’t know why. I mean, sure, it’s probably because I will miss them and their presence, feeling secure knowing that someone had my back. But seriously, why does it hurt so much?
Is it because attachment is like that annoying song you can’t get out of your head? We invest so much time, energy, and emotions into people, and then when they leave, it’s like someone yanked the Wi-Fi out during your favorite Netflix binge. Their departure leaves a void bigger than the one left by the last doghnut at a staff meeting. It’s not just their physical absence; it’s the emotional support and companionship that’s now as empty as a Monday morning coffee pot.
And it’s okay to feel this way. It’s normal. It’s human. The pain is our mind and body’s way of saying, “Hey, something significant just changed!” We are wired to form connections, and breaking those connections feels like trying to separate two pieces of Velcro—it’s messy and leaves fuzz everywhere. It hurts because we care, because we are losing something valuable.
So here I am, trying to keep my emotions in check, reminding myself—and you—that it’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay to hurt, to miss someone, to feel like a bit of a mess. Because this is what makes us human. It’s our capacity to feel deeply, to form connections, and to experience the full spectrum of emotions that gives life its richness. And in acknowledging this, in giving ourselves permission to feel the pain and the loss, we find the strength to let go. We allow ourselves the grace to heal, understanding that it’s a process, not a destination. Slowly, we begin to move forward, carrying the memories and the lessons with us, shaping us into stronger, more resilient beings.
But for now, I am not okay. I will miss them so much. Their humor that could turn the dullest of meetings into a comedy special. Their smile that lit up the room brighter than the office’s energy-saving bulbs ever could. Their wisdom that often felt like a lifeline in a sea of chaos. And their thoughtfulness that was like a warm blanket on a cold day, always there to offer comfort and support.
The absence of their laughter will make the office feel like a silent movie, their smile a missing puzzle piece in the daily grind. Their insights were like Google Maps for my professional journey—always pointing me in the right direction. And their kind gestures? Well, those were the unsung heroes of our workdays, turning ordinary moments into something extraordinary.
So yeah, right now it feels like I’ve lost more than just a colleague. I’ve lost a part of my daily routine, a source of joy and support. And that’s tough. It’s okay to admit that it’s tough. Because life isn’t always about having it all together. Sometimes, it’s about embracing the mess, feeling the pain, and knowing that it’s all part of this wild, unpredictable ride we call life.
Today’s Wisdom
"To let go does not mean to get rid of. To let go means to let be. When we let be with compassion, things come and go on their own." — Jack Kornfield
Embrace the emotions, the chaos, and the change. It’s okay to not be okay. It's through the cracks of our heartbreak that the light of new beginnings shines in. Just remember, even in the midst of loss, there is room for growth, resilience, and eventual healing. You are stronger than you think, and it's perfectly human to feel the way you do.
While today is tough and my heart feels heavy, I’m holding on to the memories, the lessons, and the warmth they brought. And maybe, just maybe, this experience is teaching me the true essence of Loving Detachment—not in becoming indifferent, but in finding strength in the love and connections we build, knowing that even when people leave, the imprint they leave on our hearts remains.
Remember, keep whispering your truth—because it's through our truths that we learn the art of letting go and discover the strength in detachment.
Leila ❤️
