Turn Intention Into Action
Can I Get a Woop Woop?
Woop woop.
I started saying it
before I knew
where I was going.
Somewhere in Germany,
between the leaving
and the becoming tired of leaving,
the words found me.
A tiny celebration.
A strange little prophecy.
Woop woop.
As though some part of me
already knew
home was not behind me,
but somewhere far away,
sunlit,
salt-washed,
waiting with bare feet.
Yesterday,
I stood in the middle
of my own life,
surrounded by things
asking to be chosen.
Take me.
Leave me.
Remember me.
You do not need me anymore.
And suddenly,
every drawer became a question.
Every shirt held a season.
Every forgotten object
carried a version of me
I had once believed was permanent.
It was overwhelming,
but not heartbreaking.
Not yet.
Maybe the heart
does not always understand
an ending
the moment it arrives.
Maybe sometimes
it simply watches
as the shelves grow lighter,
as the walls begin
giving back the echoes,
as a chapter quietly folds itself
into a suitcase.
I do not feel anxious.
I do not feel excited.
I feel somewhere
between the caterpillar
and the wings,
when the old life
has already dissolved,
but the new one
has not yet learned
how to fly.
Woop woop.
There it is again.
The phrase I carried
without meaning
has circled the world
and returned with directions.
Australia.
The great faraway.
The place so distant
it became a joke,
then a possibility,
then a plan,
then a pile of belongings
on my bedroom floor.
Funny how the universe works.
It rarely sends a map.
Sometimes it sends
a phrase,
a feather,
a black swan,
a word you keep repeating
until one day
you realize
you have been calling yourself home.
So yes,
this chapter is closing.
Not with thunder.
Not with tears.
But with zippers,
donation piles,
half-empty rooms,
and the quiet realization
that I cannot take
every version of myself
where I am going.
Some things belong
to the road behind me.
Some things become wisdom.
Some things become light.
And some things
simply become
room.
Can I get a woop woop?
For the woman
who kept moving
even when she did not know why.
For every ending
that looked like loss
until the horizon turned pink.
For the life
that kept making space
before I understood
what it was making space for.
For the faraway place
slowly becoming
my next ordinary morning.
Woop woop.
Maybe I have not fully realized
that I am leaving.
Maybe the soul
arrives before the body does.
Maybe home
has been calling me
in my own voice
all along.
Woop woop.
I am not running away.
I am not starting over.
I am carrying the sunlight forward.
And somewhere beyond the boxes,
beyond the ocean,
beyond the life I can currently imagine,
the sky is already
making room for me.
