About two weeks ago, I sat down in front of my computer and stared at my social media handles. All of them–for as long as I could remember–all had the memorable “murturtle” username attached to each one. Twitter. Instagram. And you know, the other all unimportant virus-like websites us millennia get sucked into like an inescapable vacuum. And for the first time in five or so years, I wanted to change them. So I did.
Saying goodbye to “murturtle” was easier than I expected. It was like taking the little name tag out of the plastic sleeve, putting it into a new folder, and tucking said folder into a box for safe keeping. For many reasons, I want to keep “murturtle” close by for safe keeping. She did a lot. And truthfully, she put up with a lot of sh*t over the last six years. Learned a lot of lessons. Saw new parts of the world. And hey, somehow “murturtle” entered the dark tunnel in 2012 and Marie Elizabeth came out of it in 2018. Voila, this is how life works: you never come out of a situation the same person you were at the beginning of it. Amazing, right?
I guess, in a poorly planned segue from my personal little story, my thoughts have led me to think a lot about the process of letting go. I usually have that “a-ha!” moment randomly when it comes to releasing an idea, person, or anything else. The “murturtle” one happened as I read over On Writing by Stephen King, which is now one of my favorite books (highly recommend it for writers). And after that, I went straight to my computer and fixed it up. Sometimes, we just know in our hearts that our attachment to said idea or persona is forever gone. And so, we hold out our hands, say one last farewell. Then, release. Knowing that in the future, whatever comes next is better than what has gone.
Too often we are fixated on the end results. We’re fixated on where we are and how it doesn’t match where we want to be. We get so excited at the beginning of the race until we see how long 1600 meters truly is. But this is the part that separates the true contenders from the ones who chicken out and run away from adversity. No matter how scary it is, you have to stare the task at hand down, brace yourself, and begin anyway. As one of my favorite quotes reminded me of recently, everything we ever wanted is on the other side of fear.
More than likely, it’s going to be frightening as hell. You’re going to have moments where you have no idea what you’re doing, but at the end of the road, you’ll be glad you went through whatever you had to when you finally reach the end point. And sometimes, the person who enters the race is not the same person who finishes with their hands above their heads, exasperating with joy for finally being able to break through that ribbon. And that’s okay.
Because, if you play your cards right, the person you find yourself staring in the mirror at when you’re done and have accomplished what you set out to, is a better version of the person you once were. And that’s the true prize of the game of life: becoming someone younger you would have looked up to and admired.
