Poof!!

“Now you see it, now you don’t” is a typical introduction a magician in a traveling carnival might say while making a coin, rabbit or beautiful assistant disappear.

How about “we’ll miss you and best of luck in your new job”?

I recently experienced a disappearing act when I left my somewhat secure position at a large academic medical center to join another healthcare organization.

To make my disappearing act even more “stupendous”, I loaded up my covered wagon with all my modern day essentials and headed west to the Colorado territory leaving my Chicago home of 25 years.  “ Wagons ho!”

On that first expedition (aka interim living) my packing list resembles that of Noah’s ….. two plates, two bowls, two folks, two knives, two towels … you get the picture.   Except my manifesto included an iMac and an iPhone.  How did Noah survive without either!!

Then weeks later with the help of two burly guys and a truck, all the contents of my apartment simply vanished leaving only the imprints of my furniture legs in the carpet and patches of dust I should have cleaned years ago. 

It was interesting to see my life segmented into cartons, meticulously itemized in boxes labeled “kitchen”, “living room”, and “master bedroom”.   My life-in-a-box … passing before me as the movers loaded them one by one onto a truck …. as I might add …. rather indifferently.  Didn’t they know what each of those treasures safely cocooned in miles of white packing paper meant to me?   

Then there was the office I spent nine years cluttering with vital, top secret documents, some what organized files, multi-colored post-it reminder notes and dusty personal affects ……. all disappeared too.  Locking the door behind me for the last time, I looked back only to see empty bookcases and, for once, a clean desk.    Maybe that stuff wasn’t so mission critical after all!

I thought of those that witnessed my disappearance and the finality of their hugs and handshakes as if they knew my reappearance was doubtful.

I also thought of those who weren’t able to see me disappear.  Might they be wondering why I am not answering the phone, returning emails or seeing me in the halls or at meetings?  Maybe, maybe not.

And what of those I often encountered on the programmed paths I traveled daily….. the train conductor, my dry cleaner.   When will it dawn on them that my absence was not temporary.  (See Familiar Strangers, August 20, 2010).

How about my old friends, favorite haunts and familiar surroundings that I will be missing?  They as well disappeared before my eyes.

What will never disappear is how much all I left behind meant to me.  Each and every person I encountered and moment I experienced over the past twenty-five years shaped who I am and gave me the confidence to enter that magician’s black box, not knowing what awaited me on the other side. 

When one disappears, one has to understand these things.  I am not sure, I fully did.

Now I know how that nervous little rabbit might have felt … nose twitching, pretending not being afraid.  Indeed!

Poof!!!!   “Now you see him, now you don’t”!