Endings and Beginnings
This time next week I’ll be in another country. Another time zone. Listening to another language.
I’m excited to explore new streets. Look up and see (perhaps?) a different sky. I wonder.
As I look back on this last year, it seems like there have been so many endings, and so many beginnings.
The ending of 6.5 years in construction. The beginning of building a new mindset for myself, that included more trust, faith, and patience. The beginning of my yoga nidra workshops. The ending of my time teaching at the studio. The ending of contracts, the beginning of new ones. The ending of relationships, and the beginning of new ones - sometimes with the same people.
I think what I’ve learned is that endings are never quite endings. More like “to be continued.” Because there’s no finality to change.
Even with something that seems as final as death, all I’ve seen is transformation. All the years that Lady was with us, all the energy and atoms that were exchanged between us, remains. There isn’t a day that she isn’t brought up, either through words or thought or action, some facet of life that was influenced by her.
I think that’s the way with all that we once loved, or still love. The memories ingrained into our beings, forever changed, and forever still changing.
And perhaps with age, perhaps with sobriety, perhaps with just living through the days with intention rather than merely surviving, there comes a comfort of knowing things will always change. Comfort where there used to be doubt, or fear. Things change whether we want them to or not. I think that’s why I’ve become such an advocate for change, both in my life and those around me. If things are going to change anyway, you might as well have some say in the how.
In sitting with myself I’ve noticed that when I get anxious, my tendency is to want to do more. There begins to be less trust in the world around me and this urgency like I can only trust myself. It is a fallacy. I am not where I am today solely because of the actions that I’ve taken, but also because of the assistance and support that I’ve accepted. My willingness to give - not just my energy, but my release - to give up any semblance of control, to surrender to what could be. What will be.
And in the same vein I feel compassion for all those around me who react to anxiety in the opposite way. Who find inaction to be the safest route.
Neither is better than the other, even if society tells us otherwise. Both routes come from a place of fear, and can only lead to a place of lack. A place of always wanting more, needing more.
My goals over the next few months are to learn a new language, learn a new skill with my body (maybe dance? Diving? Something else? Any suggestions?), and learn yet another way of being that includes the most peaceful act of self-loving rebellion - to say, “Less. Less, please.”
Less expectation. Less chasing. Less anticipation. Less breath-holding. Less heartbreak.
Less wanting. Less doing. More being.
This is the change I’d like to see.
What are you ready to see end? What would you like to see begin?
