I am writing this on my family’s late-night drive to Pennsylvania.
About two hours into the trip, we pass the Cincinnati Reds Stadium, which usually moves me to press my face up against the back seat window glass and enter into a distorted form of déjà vu.
I remember the first time I passed the stadium in late March of 2021. It was immediately after a beautiful sunset, and I felt free. Justin Bieber’s “Justice” album had just been released, so I was playing that poor music to death. I was talking to someone new and had optimism. I was less “accomplished” than I am now, hadn’t found creative writing yet, and I just got a new tattoo.
I feel different now. Merely eight months later, and I’ve left her in the ground. I don’t listen to that album incessantly anymore, my optimism has died to sarcastic cynicism, and I utilize creative writing in virtually everything I touch. I’ve learned who I am and who I pretend to be.
So, how did I walk forward without realizing it? What if I liked my life season and the person that I was then? Could I have stopped?
Moving on is a terrifying phenomenon when an individual consciously thinks about it, but, in reality, it’s physically impossible not to move on.
No one ever realizes that they are moving on until they look back. People tend to get so caught up in the mundanity of life that every day tends to feel the same until they are forced to acknowledge their new circumstances.
Moving on is a significant topic for me because I never want to move on until I’m there. I have trouble moving on in the present moment, but once I’m there, I enjoy looking back. I began searching through my voice recordings and came across a jarring question that moved me to type.
In a scratchy voice, recorded at a late hour, I rhetorically asked, “You’ve come to this personal nirvana on why you’re here. You’re set on your belief systems; you’ve done the introspection and gotten a sense of who you are, so how do you move forward with all of this gained knowledge?”
Hopefully, if you’ve digested anything that I have said before this editorial, you’ve found yourself, and that is what fuels the process of moving on.
The Paradoxical Theory of Change is a form of therapy utilized by German psychiatrist Fritz Perls and studies that if “people allow themselves to be fully and awarely in touch with who they currently are, change and growth then emerge as the inevitable and natural outcome of such contact and genuine self-knowledge,” said the social science publishing, SAGE.
Growth, if an individual is applying gained knowledge and awareness, should accompany moving on.
When do you turn the page? I’m here to tell you that there’s no inciting action or blatant, existential epiphany that makes you pivot a 180-degree angle into a different life season or path, nor does it come at a specific moment.
Moving on is a gradual movement.
I recently cut ties with someone, which has been an agonizing experience. I have learned what it’s like to live with a person’s ghost and not find my usual constant comfort by replaying a relationship’s beginning. I think about that person most of the day, which leads to my next point:
Moving on is a mindset, not an action.
Deleting a number and reclaiming my things was not moving on, but it is now the conscious, second-by-second neglect of Somerset sunset memories and a future that fell out of my fingertips.
When a person moves on from a person or physical place, summer to autumn, or a self-destructive and harmful mindset, it’s not a one-and-done deal, but more so a systematic, daily occurrence.
So, be aware that even in this current moment, you are moving on from something. That is why there are various life seasons; the real challenge is keeping a hold of yourself during the whiplash-inducing speeds that you are catapulted into an experience.
Moving forward can be terrifying. No one knows what the future holds, but there should be a sense of peace with the movement.
Some people and places are merely confined to chapters in your life, some things, only pages. Just know that the book is about you, and you have been with yourself the entire time.
After a pause in the voice recording, I added the simple question, “Where do you go, and where do you want to go?”
That, my friends, is for you to decide.
