Let Things End

As humans we have a tendency to tie significance to permanence. Which is very human considering things that appear permanent feel the most controlled, secure, and important. In life there is lots of loose ends and uncertainty, so anything with levels of stability feels especially vital. In a world where we don’t always know what is “immortal,” it’s easy to cling to any sense of “forever” we can. In parallel we like to hold onto what feels good for as long as we possibly can. We want touching experiences to last infinitely, relationships to stay a constant, and sometimes even life to feel everlasting. 

As a very nostalgic person myself, I struggle with letting things go. Consistency feels safe, addicting almost. In life there are very few things that are consistent, or stay consistent. Change is inevitable. Over the course of this past year I’ve learned to accept that I cant always control outcomes. Or, I can’t always control the pieces of my life that seem consistent. Entering college removed the layer of childhood consistency. My first year I found it hard to grasp the principle that I was no longer sharing the same walls as my brother or parents. I was no longer minutes from everyone and everything Ive ever known. One of the greatest losses was no longer being a dancer. 

I danced from the age of four to eighteen. Being in the studio was all I knew. I knew french vocabulary before my multiplication tables. Although college has collected my dancing years as an end, I had often found myself questioning if it was all a waste. It’s easy to overlook what “mortal” things grant us. It’s easy to say because I don’t dance present day that my years of dancing were for nothing. 

Dance’s absence within my life has affected me both physically and mentally. Simple things like not being able to turn as effortlessly or minor losses of flexibility feel like identity shifts. I felt weak or lazy considering I was so used to strength training for fourteen years to now nothing. I found myself randomly doing pirouettes to make myself feel like I still “had it.” Mentally it felt like dance left a large hole in my identity that I no longer knew how to fill. The topic of dance in general became a heavy sensitivity. Details like the smell of hairspray or bobby pins could be enough to make my heart sink. It seems silly but my dancing years ending felt equivalent to a death of apart of myself. 

Many changes in our lives can feel like the death of someone or something. Especially when you’re grieving something or someone who exists, but is no longer in reach. Dance felt out of reach. When things end, they can sometimes feel wasted, because we tend to attach everlastingness to importance. It could be easy to say that dance was a waste because I no longer dance. Yet, endings are not equal to insignificance. 

Dance is a variable in this story, but endings can exist in many different principles. Love concludes, environments change, routines shift, life in all its entirety, ends. Endings are not as simple as they sound, in fact most things are never clean cuts. The weight of endings linger and its multitude of lessons and impact can live on longer than its time frame of existing. Although I don’t dance anymore, I carry dance with me in almost everything i do, every single day. Dance taught me drive, passion, creativity, performance, confidence, respect, and endless other impacts. The same goes for my past relationships, although those two people are no longer together, the lessons weaved amongst that time period are infinite. Experiences shape us regardless if they stay. 

I have spent my whole life trying to make everything stay the same. I wanted to dance forever. I wanted to be young forever. I wanted to never leave the valley I grew up within. Mortal things are not a waste, and there is beauty in endings. Endings are gates for beginnings. In a life where even existing is not certain to be everlasting, its important to let go of control and accept the present. Experiences are not a waste, they are apart of being human and the passage of time. No love is ever wasted, it teaches and carry us into new versions of fuller love. Passing moments, even long ones, are significant. Our past shapes us just as much as our present. 

I have learned to ease more into being present. Its so freeing to let go of expectations and defining experiences by their timeframe. Savor the fleeting moment. Love hard. As humans we spend so much time focusing on outcomes, strategically planning and hoping for specific versions of our lives. Control has a way of diluting presence. Its important to let things play out, let things end, let things go off the tracks you’d hope they’d stay steady on. Define significance by fullness and not by expiration.

• change
• college
• identity
• love
• mental health
• nostalgia