“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” – Alexander Graham Bell
Fall is my favorite season. I loved everything about it when I lived near Boston. I loved the kaleidoscope of stunning hues of red, gold, orange interspersed through greens, browns and blues. The bright red shock of birch and oak leaves and the cool breeze becoming more crisp while whipping off the water, causing the fallen leaves to stir.
Like the seasons, relationships change too. They can grow closer or more distant, eventually dissipating like the fall leaves sprinkling the ground. Each leaf was once a thing of beauty that will be taken back up to feed the tree to grow new branches and leaves. The cycle repeats.
Late fall, once all the leaves were on the ground and the trees were bare, before the first snow fall always made me sad and nostalgic for what once was.
Sometimes it seems that closing doors bring about the energy that it takes to open a new door. I’m not going to offer a biopic of all of my failed relationships, but I’ve learned that relationships often have a duration and that it’s ok—because from each I learn new things about myself and others. Each relationship prepares me for the next in its own way. And there can be joy in cherishing the wonderful memories instead of sorrowfully clinging to what once was.
Doors open when we let go of relationships that no longer serve us. Learning to look towards the opening door instead of longingly at the closed one isn’t easy.
It’s also not easy to reopen closed doors. I recently received an email from someone I considered a very close friend. We had drifted despite my best efforts to maintain the friendship. I realized that as much as I cared, I couldn’t, and didn’t want to, do it on my own. I said goodbye in my way and decided to remember her with love instead of hurt.
Her email asked me to forgive her for being a bad friend, and for her lack of communication over the last couple of years. It offered no excuses just a simple apology and a statement of her feelings.
I’ve missed her friendship, and when I allowed myself to realize that the distance between us wasn’t all about me, it allowed me to let her go when she needed that. Then it enabled me to welcome her with open arms when she came back. I don’t know where things will lead, but that’s ok. That’s really not the point.