A Ceremonial Closing

Before I moved out of Boston I had the most “the Universe has my back” moment I’ve had in a long time. It was surreal. It was inexplicable. It was truly monumental.

Back in the end of February I needed floss and deodorant from Target (not the point of the story, I promise).

After shopping, my soul was telling me I needed to walk and get my body moving before bed. I had been feeling a great sense of mourning that day in particular because I had booked my UHaul rental and it all finally set in that my move was official.

So off I went, my plan to hop on the T at Fenway, ride it to Brookline Hills, walk a giant loop home, and fulfill what my mind, body, and soul were screaming at me to do.

Except the T went down at my apartment’s stop- Longwood- several stops before the intended exit plan. ‘Everyone get off! Tough luck if you need to go further!’

When you’re me and have 10,000% trust in the Universe, you take everything as a sign…sometimes to a fault. Therefore, in my mind: T went down at Longwood = no walk for tonight. The Universe is telling me to go home.

Or is it?

No. Sorry, Universe, but Alli really needs this walk. I started my journey from Longwood station and headed west, seemingly guided by nothing other than the randomness of my legs. Feeling all these negative feelings, just as I knew I would and had to. Ruminating. Feeling. Mourning.

Mourning my successes.

Mourning my failures.

Memories.

Opportunities.

Experiences.

People I’ve met and kept in my life.

People I’ve met and are no longer in my life.

Mourning every single person, place, or thing that has been in the past 4 years.

And boy was I feeling it.

I’m sure the music wasn’t helping (My ‘Blue’s Napping Against Me’ playlist on Spotify if you were wondering), but man oh man. It was like this gate opened and everything I hadn’t been allowing myself to feel just bubbled out. Like when you look away from boiling pasta in a much-too-small pot and suddenly the bubbles are out of control, spilling over the edge.

In the heat of all those feelings, I stumbled upon a park I had been to once before with Abbie. Almost as if it were calling me, I turned and headed inside.

Aw what the hell? I feel drawn in…might as well.

In I went. This park- while I’m sure has its visitors during the day- was dead. So silent you could hear a pin drop.

On I kept walking when I stumbled upon a swing set. If you know me, you know I’m not one to sit on or touch public park objects or rides (…Is rides the right word? Why does that sound wrong…). That’s a whole other thing but in essence, germs and gross things, whatever- not the point.

But I felt so drawn to these swings. It felt as though the breeze itself was pushing me to that damn thing. So…what else would I do besides get on, right?

That’s gonna make me feel really good. I feel like I should be on those swings.

And who knows? Maybe it was the Universe, maybe it was little Alli speaking up because she used to love swings. Regardless, I got on and started swinging.

It felt so nice.

I was defying gravity. I was feeling the wind on my face, in my hair.

But I’m alone. So I’m still feeling what I’m feeling. Negativity in isolation. All those thoughts getting caught in the wind and swirling in it, tangling me up in this swinging cloud.

Then out of nowhere, a girl about my age comes into the park, walks over, sits down on the swing next to me, and starts swinging. All without saying a word.

We’re in unison, swinging and being. In silence.

In this beautiful sacred silence.

And it was as though the second she sat down, my soul felt the presence of hers and they reached out and held each other while our bodies swung in comfortable limbo.

Human company in which we feel as though we’re the only two people on the planet at this very moment. This insignificant autonomy- I don’t know who she is and she doesn’t know who I am. Company without expectation of conversation. Intimacy in its most valuable form. Just being. Together.

We swung in silence for 25 minutes. And in those 25 minutes I experienced the most beautiful sensations, emotions, and feelings I recall having had in a very long time. It was a spiritual, mutual understanding that ‘I’m here in this moment and you’re here in this moment- and we’re okay.’

I closed my eyes, I felt the wind in my face. I truly allowed myself to surrender to that beautiful, encapsulating feeling of freedom and tranquility that I was experiencing.

Even the tone in my music seemingly changed. It was as though a light switch flicked on and suddenly I had a deeper reassurance that I was okay and that this next transition would also be okay. The profound mourning turned into gratitude for having had these opportunities. The isolation turned into a realization that I, just like everyone else, am simply a soul having a human experience in this lifetime, all connected deeper than we realize. The ‘What Now?” stormcloud cleared from the sun and shined bright on the newer statement: “What Now!”

And I just sat in that.

The stars above me, that exhilarating and awakening falling sensation, the breeze, the music matching the exact shade of hopeful gratitude I was experiencing. And the girl. That mystery guardian angel. Exactly who I needed.

Eventually my ass started to hurt so I had to get up. It was a kid’s swing set and I do have an adult ass, after all.

I slowed down- allowing gravity to take her time on my descent, got up, gave a small but gratitude-packed wave, and headed off. Just like that I was walking away from my spiritual experience feeling charged, motivated, and whole.

Thank you, stranger on the swing.

You made my last bit of time in Boston beautifully magic.

You gave me a gift many never get to experience in a lifetime- unspoken but deeply-felt closure.

Thank you for listening to my wonderful story. I can only cross my fingers that the immensity of how it felt in the moment translates to you, my reader. I hope you have a magical, life-changing moment of your own sometime very soon. And sometimes- juuuust sometimes- instead of taking a deviation as a sign not to do something, think of it as the Universe giving you an alternative path that will lead to something way better. This was the first- and only- time I was grateful for the unreliability of the T. ;)

You’re so loved.

Xoxo,

Alli