Letting Go While Holding On
By Enda Gilbert
The Morning He Left (BOLD THIS AND MAKE IT BIGGER)
I dropped him off at the airport, walked him to where his friends and teachers were gathered, gave him a hug and watched him slot seamlessly into his group.And then I left.I could not stay to see him off. I just could not. So I turned around, walked back to my car, sat down, closed the door, and completely fell apart.There is no other way to describe it. I was paralysed. A strange kind of brain fog settled over me, and I could not move, could not think, could not quite locate myself in the moment. My baby, my boy, was about to board a flight to Japan. Without me.He was going skiing in the mountains with his school. A perfectly organised, well-supervised excursion. I knew he would be safe. I knew he would be well looked after. I knew all of this in my head.My heart, however, had not received that memo.Thank goodness for the deep breathing practice I have built over the years. In moments like that one, when the fog rolls in and the ground feels unsteady, I come back to my breath. Slowly, it brought me back. Clarity returned, enough to start the car and pull out of the car park.I drove around for far too long before I finally found the exit.And on the way home? I took the wrong route entirely. Got completely lost.I was, to put it plainly, a mess. And I think that is worth saying out loud because we do not say it enough.
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I dropped him off at the airport, walked him to where his friends and teachers were gathered, gave him a hug and watched him slot seamlessly into his group.And then I left.I could not stay to see him off. I just could not. So I turned around, walked back to my car, sat down, closed the door, and completely fell apart.There is no other way to describe it. I was paralysed. A strange kind of brain fog settled over me, and I could not move, could not think, could not quite locate myself in the moment. My baby, my boy, was about to board a flight to Japan. Without me.He was going skiing in the mountains with his school. A perfectly organised, well-supervised excursion. I knew he would be safe. I knew he would be well looked after. I knew all of this in my head.My heart, however, had not received that memo.Thank goodness for the deep breathing practice I have built over the years. In moments like that one, when the fog rolls in and the ground feels unsteady, I come back to my breath. Slowly, it brought me back. Clarity returned, enough to start the car and pull out of the car park.I drove around for far too long before I finally found the exit.And on the way home? I took the wrong route entirely. Got completely lost.I was, to put it plainly, a mess. And I think that is worth saying out loud because we do not say it enough.
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Meet Enda Gilbert
CEO & Founder | Award-Winning Parent & Burnout Coach | Certified Parental Burnout Practitioner|Specialist Educator/Mama
The morning I dropped my son off for his first solo international trip, I sat in the car park completely paralysed. Brain fog. Couldn't move. Couldn't think. My baby was about to board a flight to Japan without me. And to top it off, I got completely lost on the way home.But what unfolded over the days that followed became one of the most profound lessons of my parenting journey. Because while he was skiing in the mountains of Japan, I was on a spiritual retreat in Ubud, Bali, and together, separately, we were both becoming.This is my story of learning what it truly means to let go while holding on. Click the link below to read this heartfelt and personal story.Because if you are raising a teenager, this one is for you.
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— Enda Gilbert
CEO & Founder, Ebb & Flow Coaching and Inclusive Learning
Award-Winning Parent & Burnout Coach | Literacy & Inclusive Learning Specialist