“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.” (Frank Herbert)
I got thinking today about the endings life gives us. The end of a century, the end of a year, the end of a relationship, the end of a life.
I recalled how after the ending and all its constituting grief and loss comes an in between state where the world begins to open up to us again and creativity revels in the expression of that loss.
Then how comes the new beginning. The yearned for start that seems to take all too long to come to pass when grief stricken. It feels like a whole new life, the rare conscious moment of turning a corner or taking a less travelled road at the proverbial fork in each of our lives paths.
Things happen that we didn’t expect, little joys emerge and life as we knew it becomes a life renewed. The wonderful thing is even if we don’t want to let go, even if we wish to disappear into the loss, nothing can stop life from renewing and joy from eventually piercing grief’s walls and re-entering our hearts.
Having lived the cycle time and time again the losses become easier as we are acutely equipped with experience and aware that life will go on no matter the gratitude of our emotional state at ground zero.
Knowledge becomes a gift, a comfort. A seed of wisdom that instils, inevitably, whatever the tide, we will be okay.