The End

I'm fascinated by endings, lately. They're a Western concept that seems otherwise so arbitrary. Sitcoms end with everything wrapped up in a neat package. TV dramas end with a teaser of what will come next. But every story has a definite beginning and a finite ending.

Relationships are different. They don't end; they just change.

We love (I love) the neatness, the completeness of a tidy ending. I love flirting with a frozen moment in time and savoring it as though that is how it will always be. We hate (I hate) change. Change is the thaw in the spring that destroys the perfect winter landscape.

Change also paves the way for whatever must come next: growth.

I'm dancing with endings and change right now. It's an awkward, sometimes sad, sometimes delicious song, and I'm grateful for the lessons I'm learning in the process. Themes of judgement and karma and fate keep bouncing around in my head, and I'm at the place where I now must go on and discover what I'm really made of. Face the music, as they say.

I hold a special fondness and kinship with Gandhi, as I'm sure you do, too. He didn't say delay the change, or avoid the change, or change the change. He didn't tell us to fear change or relish change. Gandhi asked us to be the change.

It's a tall order, but to keep running or hiding from this change is a disgrace to those I love. There aren't tools for change, or a special outfit, or partners along the way. Change is like giving birth; others can prepare you, support you, walk next to you, but you must push through it alone, with your just heart, soul, body, and spirit.

And in truth, those are always the only things you ever need.