Thank You and Goodbye: Letting Go to Move Forward

Three times I made a gut-wrenching decision to sell a home I didn’t want to leave. The first house my husband and I bought was a converted farmhouse in an acre of gardens, with a Japanese hot tub overlooking a creek. “When I die,” I told my husband, “apply for a zoning variation and bury me here. I’m not leaving this home, dead or alive.”

At the time, Judaism was not a factor in our decision-making, but when we became observant a few years later it became an issue. As much as we loved our house, we realized we wanted to be a part of a Jewish community.

Fast forward a few years, and we adopted a young child from Kazakhstan. At the time, there were only two children her age in our community and all her classmates lived in the bigger Jewish community nearby. It was heartbreaking to deal with her loneliness on Shabbat, but more importantly, she wasn’t learning the social skills she needed and wasn’t thriving.

Reminding myself that we didn’t adopt a child to meet our needs – but for us to meet hers – we realized this home wasn’t working for us as a family. Despite no guarantees, we had to go where life was leading us. It turned out that the move was a success beyond imagination and we had over a decade of what I called “the Golden Years.”

But then our little girl grew up, left home, and we became empty nesters. A 3-story house that was too big when we first bought it now felt cavernous. The utility bills and upkeep were a burden - not to mention the long cold Pennsylvania winters – and this home no longer worked for us as a couple. As hard as it was to leave, staying wasn’t the right choice either. We came to terms with downsizing to our present home - a 2-bedroom condo in Florida.

With one foot on the gas and another on the brakes, she was emotionally exhausted and drained.

To ease the pain of leaving, I created a ritual called “thank you and goodbye.” Each time, as our home was emptied and swept clean of our having lived there, I would make one final trek through the house. Room by room, I would take a few minutes to savor my best memories, and then I would say out loud into the empty space, “Thank you… and goodbye.”

Applying to Other Hard Decisions

This could be used for other types of hard decisions. For example, one of my coaching clients struggled to leave a bad marriage. She wanted her freedom but was still attached to a dream that could not become a reality. With one foot on the gas and another on the brakes, she was emotionally exhausted and drained.

So, I decided to try a version of my “house-leaving ritual’ to see if she could get clarity and relief from her decision fatigue.

First, she identified a litany of things that didn’t work for her, such as the lack of intimacy, secrecy, verbal abuse, and his attachment to past girlfriends. As she dug into each painful realization about her marriage, she would verbalize, “I say goodbye to that.”

Then, she identified positive things she would miss, such as friends in common, a home she liked, financial security, and not being alone. And she said “goodbye” to each of these things. Finally, she said goodbye to the dream that no longer was – growing old together.

We uncovered the valuable lessons she learned about herself - I can stand up for myself – and how she would use that in her next relationship - Don’t live with your head in the sand - a bad sign is a bad sign. In releasing the past (good and bad), she realized how she could move to a new future full of possibilities for living and loving fully.

Moving Forward

Many of us get stuck at some point in our lives on the merry-go-round of indecision, caught up in “analysis paralysis.” Whether trapped in loveless relationships, dead-end jobs, self-sabotaging behaviors, or a life circumstance that isn’t working anymore, we fear uncertainty more than anything, living in the exhausting grind of purgatory that drains life of all joy and vitality.

Black-and-white thinking or engaging in scorched earth policy to ensure we can never backtrack doesn’t allow us to move forward with a free heart.

Sometimes, we demonize a person, place, or situation to make leaving less painful. Afraid of ambivalence, confusion, or a weakening of our resolve, we are scared to admit that there might be anything positive. So instead, we resort to black-and-white thinking or engage in scorched earth policy to ensure we can never backtrack. But that’s a maladaptive strategy that doesn’t allow us to move forward with a free heart.

As we approach the start of 2023, many of us are taking stock of our lives. We hope that the changes we’ve been dreaming about will somehow occur in the coming year. But change is not a matter of willpower, a gym membership, a list of life hacks, or a new monthly planner. Change is less by chance and more by choice. And it’s making peace with uncertainty and inner conflicts.

Perhaps that is why January 1st falls in the Jewish month of Tevet – a time of darkness that provides the cover for deep internal reflection. In winter, things appear bare and dormant on the surface, but they are gathering strength and vitality to burst forward in the spring. So, take a page out of nature’s playbook – for nothing chooses stagnation. But be gentle with yourself, for all change – even the change you want – is bittersweet.

Whether contemplating a bold change or just taking small steps in the right direction, know that the journey will make you wiser and more whole. Think about what you learned from the past year to take with you. Then think about what you need to let go of to move forward.

And remember, when you say “thank you and goodbye,” a beautiful “hello” is hopefully waiting for you on the other side.