Letting go of my first child

Speeding through the Kentish countryside as I type. It’s all happened so fast today. Talk about on the move…virtually no time to linger ere the wistfulness began, we handed him over to his form teacher and his new classmates and before we all knew it his new chapter had started. I know they do it this way on purpose, to make it easier.

Attachment is a funny thing. The Buddhists teach that all suffering arises from attachment. The child psychologists teach that all security starts from attachment.

The entirety of human experience seems to fit into the spectrum inbetween.

Endings are beginnings at the same time.

And with that, perhaps it’s time to put the philosophising aside – there will be plenty enough of that in the days ahead – and return to staring out of the window, at the green hills flashing by in the sunshine, stay in the moment…and let my heart ache quietly for a while, in a space resonating between sorrow and pride.

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