I don’t need a pardon, no, no, no, no, no
There’s no one left to blame
I’m leaving the table
I’m out of the game
“I’m Out of the Game”
I remember the moment I realized I was done. Not in a dramatic, storm-out-the-door way, but in the quiet, knowing way that fills every corner of your being with peace. I didn’t need to fight anymore, didn’t need to prove anything, didn’t need to win or lose. I was simply done. Leonard Cohen’s “Leaving the Table” puts words to that feeling, that moment of clarity when you step back from the game and know you’ll never sit at that table again.
For years—maybe lifetimes—I’ve played the game. I’ve sought love, validation, meaning, and resolution outside myself, believing that the answers were out there somewhere, in someone, or something. But they weren’t. And at some point, the seeking itself became exhausting. It’s not that I gave up—it’s that I realized I didn’t need to keep playing. The treasure I had been chasing was already within me.