2006 was a very long year. Breakdowns, implosions, collapses, explosions, involving everything from home to health to career to relationships. Numerologically, it was a "1" for me - the start of many new beginnings in terms of friends, work, creativity and opportunity. But to feed those beginnings well, a lot of ballast had to be dumped off the good ship Corbie.

Some of the shows I've done for a while closed up shop, so my traveling schedule will be less next year. My gig at the American Hotel was unexpectedly discontinued. Still, those are small things, and will give me time for writing projects and creating workshops.

Tougher to weather was leaving behind old parts of myself - that I've outgrown, from which I've graduated, that no longer serve me (or, by extension, you). That has proved to be my main spiritual "theme" this year - to the point where, through releasing outmoded beliefs and behaviors, my energies and responsibilities have been raised up to a different level. It's the kind of evolution that means name changes and maturity ceremonies in the world of the First Nations. I will be going through such a ceremony in December. Though the "outer name" won't change and you'll still be able to find Corbie where you usually do, don't be surprised if the energy feels a fair amount different.

It also meant leaving behind crutches, whether or not I knew that's what they were. It's hard to sever a mentor-student relationship of over 20 years, but it was required as part of the initiation. Did I know that at the time? Did anyone literally ask me to do it? Not at all. The details are not important; but the fact that, a month later, I feel stronger, more self-confident, more creative and more empowered than I have felt in a decade - that I no longer feel the need to look to her or anyone else to give me permission or relevance -- tells me that the relationship had gone from treasure to toxic, through neither my mentor's fault nor mine.

There's no guilt involved, no finger pointing. I bless a thousand times the experiences, the gifts, the learning, the laughter. I bless also the difficulties, the misunderstandings and the final parting. They have deepened my soul's cache, giving me a more tender understanding of other people's wounds and weatherings.

I will be able to offer more for the world's healing as a result.

I will add ballast to the foundering ship of Mankind: ballast vital to keep our ship afloat as we make our passage from this world to the next, until we can fill the cargo hold with enough wisdom, compassion and peace to bring us safely into the new harbor.

These partings happen. Between the best of friends, the closest of relatives, the dearest of spiritual companions. It's the way of this world, and we all must face such a leave-taking at least once in a lifetime. The key to pain or serenity, falling or flying, is all in how you choose to leave the nest.

If such a thing happens to you - let go with grace.

Cross your bridges. Spread your wings.

And fly without looking back.