The only people for me are the mad ones,
the ones who are mad to live,
mad to talk,
mad to be saved,
desirous of everything at the same time,
the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing,
but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.
Jack Kerouac, On the Road
Saying goodbye today to Nathan, one of the mad ones. Mad enough to live, to travel, to dance like nobody’s watching, to put a lot of life in his years.
We laughed, we partied, we splashed in the pool, did Acro Yoga together, travelled, talked serious, were always leaving Oasis, but never moved. It was a privilege to travel together and now it’s time for goodbye.
I use to be very bad in goodbyes. I can remember my first, long (one year) journey through Australia. After half a year I came to a point I didn’t want to do it anymore. Didn’t want to say goodbye anymore. Meeting people, opening up, growing deep friendships and then having to say goodbye. The more I did it, the heavier it became.
Now I don’t mind. Partly because I know goodbyes are not really goodbyes. True friendship stays. Only a few months ago I meet up with Petra Tomuta, who I meet on a yoga teacher training in India. Two years had gone bye, but we kept in contact every now and then and we gave the most beautiful yoga retreat I’ve ever given. Working side by side as if we had done for years.
The other reason I can say goodbye ‘easily’, is because I do yoga. Maybe that sounds strange, but yoga teaches me not to get attached. To live in the moment. And I do. I don’t see my (new) friendships as friendships that will be there for ever. I see them as beautiful moments I’m sharing with people and I enjoy those moments fully. For what they are: moments. And if there is another moment given, I will enjoy it fully as well. But I don’t fantasies or think of moments in the future. I don’t see a broken up friendship, because one of us has to move on, as a lost. I see it for what it is: a beautiful, funny, hilarious, serious moment I share with somebody. And from there, I move on. On the the next beautiful moment.