Inside the Song Series #8: Circumstance
One of the bigger lessons I have learned in life is that not all endings come because something is broken.
Sometimes life is beautiful. Everyone is healthy. Relationships are thriving. Dreams are unfolding exactly as they should.
And then, somehow, it is time to say goodbye anyway.
I wrote “Circumstance” the week after dropping my youngest child, my baby, off at college. My season of active, everyday motherhood had come to an end.
Two days later, I had lined something up for myself to ease the transition. I traveled to the Yuba River for a women’s retreat, where I planned to learn how to forage and use native plants for food and medicine (not psychedelics!). I arrived hoping to discover what I might grow in my garden.
What grew instead was a song.
Sitting beside the river and looking out over the Sierra foothills, I reflected on the chapter that had just closed.
My son and I had shared such a wonderful final year together at home. We met at the breakfast table for herb-and-egg scrambles, pontificated about philosophy and spirituality at 11 pm, jammed on guitar, and shared our creative projects. Many mornings, I gleefully watched him surf while I tossed a ball to our Boston terrier, Gizmo, along the shore.
That was what made parting so difficult.
The first lyric arrived almost immediately:
It is so hard to say goodbye
when our love is flying so high.
The richer a season has been, the harder it can be to release.
As the song unfolded, another image emerged. I imagined Circumstance as a woman who enters our lives without asking permission.
When Circumstance inserts herself,
and all the plans that we have made
come to an end
There is no use in arguing,
no use in bargaining.
With reality, she doesn’t bend
But the song doesn’t end with goodbye.
Because every ending holds the possibility of a new beginning. My son was stepping into his own life, and I was being invited into a new phase of mine.
All as it should be.
If you have ever had to release something you deeply cherished—not because it failed, but because it had been completed—I hope this song keeps you company.
Have a listen to Circumstance here:
Listen on Spotify:
Writing prompt for your journal:
Describe the moment you realized a familiar chapter of your life had ended. What felt different when you returned home?
Imagine Circumstance as a person entering your life uninvited. What did she change without asking your permission? What would you say to her now?