How to say goodbye — a note from Ailsa
Bright orange-yellow flowers against the backdrop of a grey wooden fence.
Dear Fireflies,
I’m here to say goodbye. And it’s so hard to do.
This is like one of those surreal breakups where you still love the other person, and think they might even be “The One,” but the timing is off, and you need to leave.
Yep, this is that level of hard.
Did you know that the origin of the word goodbye is as a contraction of the phrase “God be with you”? And farewell comes from “fare you well”? These are blessings, wishes for future well-being.
In French and German, we have au revoir and auf wiedersehen, which both mean “until we see one another again.” We might shout to our friends as we run to catch a subway, “see you later!”
What strikes me is how all these phrases orient us to the future. A goodbye is not only an end, but also a beginning.
Many of you will know that in 2022 my wonderful daughter arrived in the world and that for the past year and a half I’ve been trying to juggle being a stay at home parent and my role at Firefly.
These are both big roles that require energy and devotion and creativity and love. I’ve realized that these are all such finite resources, and that for the time being I need to dedicate those resources fully to the wonderful little human that it is my privilege to care for
I’m looking forward to all the magic and chaos that comes with parenting a little one. And still, there’s heartbreak here.
Firefly is, in so many ways, where I grew up.
It’s been a part of my life since I first moved to Canada, 12 years ago. From my first intake call with Chris where I literally shook with nerves, to every workshop and retreat I attended as a participant, to the dreamy reality of joining this powerhouse of a team as a coach in 2016.
I cannot express what this fierce community means to me and I can only thank you all for creating this space where I have experienced such joy and belonging for so long.
Fireflies are the most magical human beings I know.
What sustains me through the inevitable grief of this moment of change is this: goodbye is not only an end but also a beginning.
I’ll no longer be teaching classes and seeing clients but I am not leaving this beautiful community behind. I will still be cheering along the outstanding Firefly team from the sidelines. Your stories will continue to move and change me. And you may well see me as a participant around a table or on a zoom screen in the future.
I’m also sustained by knowing that I’m leaving you in such capable hands.
There is a world of talent and heart and knowledge and skill within the Firefly team and I know they’re going to keep doing wonderful things in the future.
In fact, there’s a whole array of beautiful classes just waiting for you to explore for this coming winter…
Small group workshops on Zoom
If you’re looking for some time to create in the comfort of your home this winter, we have a beautiful line-up of workshops coming up.
Small group workshops in person in Toronto
Fireflies will also be gathering at St. Matthew’s Clubhouse in the East end. Kim is running a workshop that she and I helped create this year — The Word Play Workshop, and Chris is running our classic beginner class — Begin Here.
And a poem for you.
I chose the poem “Heart” by Maggie Smith to share with you today.
I believe that this is a time when creative community is more important than ever.
May you be sustained and taken care of in the days ahead. And may your writing be nourished and cherished.
And until we meet again,
