Saying Goodbye to What’s Served Its Purpose

purpose, goodbye, letting go

 

The things and experiences in life that shape who we are serve a purpose and are then meant to fall away, giving us room to breathe and expand into something new. At their most powerful they are a pivotal tool or gateway to something better. Then, just like leaves in the fall, these tools and experiences drop off, allowing you to break through and step into a new expression, a new adventure.

 

While it’s all logical, saying goodbye to something or someone that’s served a purpose isn’t necessarily easy. Even when you see it coming and know it’s for the best.

 

Honoring the Trusty Tools that Help Carve your Path

 

I’m moving through this experience right now as I prepare to say goodbye to my car. Yes, she’s old – 18 years old in fact – but we’ve only been together for 10. And yes, she’s my baby. My Pathfinder is the first car I ever bought for myself and was the exact car I wanted. I found her on a used car lot and was beyond thrilled. I mean, what are the chances that exactly what you are looking for just shows up? Well, my car was my first experience with understanding that kind of thing in life is actually possible. And as a result, she was with me when I unknowingly began my my inward spiritual journey.

 

My car helped me start a fresh life after the long-term romantic relationship that brought me to Colorado ended. She spent many a night with me, overlooking Horsetooth Reservoir as I listened to sad music and gazed at the night sky, wondering what was next for me in life. She kept me safe in two different accidents, including one where a drunk driver hit me and sped off into the night.

 

She’s also helped me move four times over the last 10 years – the last being to my new home this summer. (Yay home ownership!) Her wheels were the only ones working when Chuck’s pick-up truck was at the mechanic during the course of the entire moving process, aside from the rental truck we used for the “big” stuff.

 

The Pathfinder did exactly what her name implies – she supported me while I zigzagged all over the place trying to find my way during times when all I knew for sure was what I could touch and feel in my hands. In ways I never expected, she’s helped me move through very challenging times in my life and push through very limiting creative expectations I had about my own abilities and the types of things I felt I deserved.

 

goodbye, purpose, pathfinder

 

The Goodbye’s are Hello’s to Something More Expansive

 

Now that she’s in her downward slide, it’s time to reflect on the purpose she’s fulfilled in my life and allow her to retire.

 

In so many ways, saying goodbye to my Pathfinder is making me acutely aware that I’m also saying goodbye to the person I used to be, and honoring all the doors, windows and connections that opened and shut behind me to shape the person I am right now. On a whole other level, this experience is enabling me to say hello to the next more creative, grounded, purposeful and exciting part of my life to come – and embrace my purpose.

 

For most people a car is just a thing. And that’s true in a logical way. But for me, my Pathfinder is a trusty, supportive tool, confidant, protector and reliable friend that reminds me freedom is always an option, whenever I’m ready to move forward into the unknown and break through any limited creative expectations that exist only in my mind.

I’ve got my own wheels now…thank you girl!

 

Photo credit: severie

Comments

  1. Yes, I totally resonate with this! Isn’t is strange how a change of vehicle often coincides with the end of an era? I always get a little misty eyed saying goodbye to a cherished car!
    Great analogy too – letting go of what belongs in our past can be difficult, and we should honour any sadness to help us move forwards.
    So it’s Thank you and Goodbye Pathfinder. And hello…Ferrari?

    • It’s so interesting to watch how the experience has offered me an emotional release for things I didn’t even realize were still hanging on, Helen. But you are right, the car is always often a metaphor for our journey and when you hit a milestone and need to part ways, it’s always bitter sweet.

      I also agree about honoring the emotional bubbles that pop in – there were definitely waves of tears from writing the post, but the waves of release feel healing and motivating. Thank you so much for your kind words and insights.

      And yes, a Ferrari does sound awfully nice, but I would take a Porsche as well. Ha! ; )

  2. I never knew anyone else felt this way about their auto, Katrina. My husband thinks I’m nuts when I labor over “trading in” my wheels. But she’s kept me safe, I tell him. I can depend on my Jeep. I don’t want or care about a new shinny this or that. She’s just fine; I’ll miss her. When someone asked me today if I like my car, I’ll say no – out of respect for her. I may stop that now.
    You’re right, of course. She’d served the purpose and I needed to move up and on. Thank you for this lovely article. Clarity, indeed my friend!

    • Thanks so much for sharing Shelia! It’s good to know I’m not the only one out there who thinks of her car as a friend I will miss. Being a protector is a valuable trait! I will miss her, but I also know she’s taken me as far as she can. Thanks again for reading lovely!

Speak Your Mind

*