The Power of Endings

Photo by Carlos Hernandez on Unsplash

I write a lot about becoming and how endings are also beginnings. But lately, endings, just endings all by themselves, have been on my mind. I don’t think I’ve always allowed myself time to process the endings. Without that space and time, the beginnings inherent in endings can be stunted.

Even in spring the trees shed leaves. New growth replaces old, but the old has to fall away first. And that falling away holds meaning. What has fallen meant something and now it is no longer. Except we remember it. What is remembered lives, as one tradition I follow says, but “it” is no longer present in the same way, and that leaves us disoriented, expecting what can no longer be.

We experience endings all the time, but only some really strike through to the heart of our being.

Yesterday I watched an interview with Melissa Gilbert on Super Soul Sunday. Her best friend’s life was ending and it brought her to that edge of clarity. The end made realization dawn in her heart. She dropped everything to be with the woman who was the love of her life. She left her husband and her life as she knew it. An impending end summoned love out of the depths.

Why do we think we have forever? In a distant metaphysical kind of way we do, but this experience, in this form is finite and that’s the greatest gift. It’s truly the greatest gift.

Love, when it’s new, is a kind of free fall. And losing someone we love is as well. I watch the leaves drift from the tree outside my window. It flutters and then rocks as it catches a breeze. That’s love holding us as we fall. The departed and those left behind, both in free fall.

Those of us left sometimes feel as though we’re speeding towards the ground until we realize there never was one. We just go on falling. And that’s okay. We’ve been released. Susan Piver, a meditation teacher, says when the heart breaks, it breaks open. It’s love unbound. It’s both painful and so unbelievably beautiful.

The sun is setting in the west now. As it goes down, we are able to witness its brilliance in a way we can’t when it’s high in the sky. The end of the day does carry the promise of tomorrow. But this day, this unique day is done. We won’t have it again. Take in the brilliant sunset. Take in the words of love shared this day. Take in the touch of a loved one, the warmth of your pet on your lap, the hug of your child. Take it all in. And let the day end in peace.

Always Becoming

Photo by Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash

It’s dusk and the wind is blowing through the trees that are quickly becoming shadows against a fading sky. And I want to feel the wind on my skin and let this moment change me as all in between times change us.

At this very moment the breeze reaches through my window. It wakes me up. As this day ends, I feel another one waiting to rise. There is no real beginning or ending. Embedded within the day is the night and within the night is day. Within us, who we are to become is already there, waiting to emerge out of our experiences. A life lived is a life ever changing, ever becoming.

For a long time I stood back. I said no to many experiences, and yet we can’t live and not experience at all. Each quiet moment works its magic. Each breath, each thought, each small awareness becomes a catalyst for the next. Life is alchemy. Our souls want to be here, to experience, to become and become. What’s next, they whisper on the edge of each night as it becomes dawn.  

As I stood back I also plowed forward. That seems like a contradiction. But it’s not. I didn’t dive into life; I dove into busy work and fussed over this and that. All that busy work made me feel as though I was doing something, but I was doing everything except the things that would move me forward.

Keep it simple. Go within. When we do, we know what to do next because it will rise up and move us.

We complicate life. Luckily for us, Life refuses to be complicated. It’s a process of the soul endlessly becoming. We are Spirit flying out of the darkness so that it may know itself. Spirit rises and we are born.

And so I listen. The Universe speaks through many avenues and the words and ideas I resonate with become mine. Monday I’ll step into a new role that feels like an old one. I’ve served writers before, but this time I serve as a natural unfoldment of soul.

It’s dark outside now. City lights flicker in the distance. But I can still make out the form of the tree across the street. The wind is barely a breeze now. As all gets quiet, the day isn’t dying. It’s getting ready to rise again.  

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