How to Say Goodbye

As my year in Honduras was getting closer to its end, I briefly wondered if I could or should extend my time there. It had taken me so long to be comfortable with the language, plus health issues, plus normal weaknesses, it seemed like I could never get to the place of giving back the way I wanted, to this neighborhood that had given me so much. I brought it up to the priest in our community while also explaining in a rambling way how, “I had left my job working with homeless kids to come here and I had probably already been gone too long, and the program was in fluctuation, and who knows what had happened to them during this year, so I really needed to get back.” He responded by saying, “be careful, you are not indispensable” (in Spanish, so hear en-de-spen-sah-blay). I was immediately offended, ended our conversation quickly and went to our little balcony to cry alone. I was pretty used to the cultural differences in my international community by then. I was the only American living with 2-3 French people, an Argentinian, and a Brazilian. Gringa that I am, I had always soaked up the messages that I can change the world, that I am special and unique, that it’s up to me to ‘be the change.’ After nearly a year of minimal verbal affirmation of how special I am (I admit I never knew how much I needed it until it was gone) I was mostly used to the cultural differences and knew that my community viewed mantras like ‘one person changing the world’ as silly, however, being told so directly that I am not indispensable, well, it hurt. I did not, in the end, extend my time there. I don’t necessarily regret my decision, but I did return to find the truth… that I’m not indispensable. The urgency I had felt about needing to return to Washington was not warranted. I’ve had many more experiences and much more time to process since my first time being told I’m ‘not indispensable’ and I can finally see the value in that truth. It doesn’t mean that I’m not unique and special, I am (and you are too!). It doesn’t mean I don’t have contributions to make that will benefit others in a way maybe only I could benefit them. But, it does mean, the weight of the world doesn’t need to be on my shoulders. It does mean if I am not able to help in whatever capacity, it might allow someone else to learn to help or give, it could even allow a creative overcoming of a problem that wouldn’t be overcome with my continual sustaining.

Over many years, I began to learn that feeling indispensable, essential, absolutely necessary, to a job, a community, or a person is probably a good sign that you aren’t quite in a right relationship with that job, community or person. I will admit that I like to feel needed. I think we all do to some degree. Which is why I think it can be such a temptation for me and others to keep climbing the ladder of being needed to the point of being absolutely needed. Being the only one who can keep something afloat, the only one who can help in a particular situation or relationship, the only one who has the skills or knowledge to respond correctly can feel amazing…at least for a while. Since leaving Honduras in 2008, I’ve made several other decisions largely based on feeling falsely indispensable and I’ve begun to recognize this mistake in other’s decisions as well. When I hear statements like, ‘there is no one else who can do what I do at my job,’ ‘if I leave, things will fall apart,’ ‘I’m the only one who understands how to teach my child,’ ‘this person depends on me for everything,’ I now usually hear some alarm bells in my head that their decision may not be being made for the right reasons.

My husband and I were able to see “Hamilton” this past spring and we were both star struck and put the soundtrack on repeat for months. There are so many great songs, but the one that has stuck with me and reminded me of my thoughts on being indispensable is called “One Last Time.” It’s the song where George Washington announces he is stepping down. Hamilton tries hard to convince him that the country needs him, but he responds with:

“No! One last time, the people will hear from me one last time. And if we get this right we’re gonna teach ‘em how to say goodbye, you and I.”

Hamilton argues, “Mr. President, they will say you’re weak.”

“No, they will see we’re strong.”

Still protesting, “Your position is so unique.”

“So I’ll use it to move them along.”

“Why do you have to say goodbye?”

“If I say goodbye, the nation learns to move on, it outlives me when I’m gone.”

I had never considered the risk George Washington took by stepping down. When someone has become so essential to something, the chance that it might very well fall apart without them is a real chance that is hard to accept. I worry about things falling apart that are much less important than a country and with things I am much less integral to! Yet, he had the courage and the confidence to trust that this nation he dedicated his life to building would find their way without him…especially if he taught “them how to say goodbye.”

I hope no one is mistaking me for encouraging you to decide to leave your job, passion or community lightly. Of course, serious decisions should be discerned seriously. I only want to help point out that with all the factors that contribute to big decisions, feeling essential, should not be the factor that ultimately determines your decision.