The origins of this essay come from a recent trip home to Atlanta to see my family. We were in a Shabbat service, the Saturday after Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The Rabbi at my Mom’s retirement community was talking about how lopsided the Torah was at this time of year, meaning almost the whole scroll was rolled up on one of the ends.  We read a section of the Torah each week during Shabbat services and the sections are determined such that in one year’s time, we read the whole thing. A couple of weeks after Yom Kippur, we complete the annual cycle and, during the holiday of Simchat Torah, reroll the Torah and start again. The rabbi was talking about the importance and symbolism of this process of reading and re-reading the Torah every year. “We celebrate the end of the cycle,” she said, “in part because we are excited to begin a new cycle. We don’t mourn the ending because we realize that every ending is also a beginning.”

That comment struck me, in part, because the primary reason I was there was to recognize my Dad’s yahrzeit—the anniversary of his passing. We lost Dad twelve years ago, one week and one day after Yom Kippur. Recently, a good friend lost her mother and during that service, the priest talked not about death, but about transition. That resonated with me as well. Her soul was transitioning to its next phase. Her earthly life had ended; her heavenly life was beginning. Many of us continue to feel the presence of a loved one long after they have died. I feel that way about my Dad and my maternal grandmother. I always feel their presence. I don’t think of their deaths as an ending, but as a transition to whatever is next; a beginning.

As I continued to ruminate on this topic, I began to understand how broadly that thinking could be applied. Throughout our entire lives, we are experiencing endings and beginnings but we don’t necessarily see the connections. We don’t see how those endings are really beginnings and that the beginnings can’t happen without the endings. A prime example that comes to my mind was a forced work transition I went through in the mid-2000’s. I had a career path in my mind that I was trying to make happen. It just wasn’t working but that didn’t keep me from continuing to beat my head against a wall. Finally, I was moved into a different position (which was a whole lot better than just being fired). I was devastated. I thought my career was over, that I’d never realize my dreams, that I was an utter failure. But that ending was actually the most awesome beginning I ever could have imagined! The job I was moved into turned out to be one of the most enjoyable and rewarding roles in my whole career. I loved the work; I loved the people; I loved what I was learning. And that role led to my next career change which took me in a direction I never could have achieved had I stayed the course in that previous role. This was a realization in hindsight, mind you. Don’t think that I was Ms. Maturity in how I approached that transition! I ended up super happy in spite of myself, not because of any healthy attitude. But it taught me that important lesson of looking forward and not mourning what could have been.

There are so many examples each of us have on how we’ve handled endings. School transitions are a good one. Grammar school to middle school to high school to (maybe) college to (maybe) grad school to your first job. In each case, you leave something that is familiar and known and head into the Great Unknown. Some people focus on the ending—leaving friends, a routine, even just a place that feels comfortable—and struggle to embrace the beginning. Others wave goodbye to what is ending and run headlong into that beginning. I’ve written before on the fact that there is no one path to success or happiness, that what is most important is what actions you take once a decision is made or a path chosen. This recognition that every ending is a beginning is a big part of that mindset.

Personal relationships of all types follow this thought pattern as well. It has been said that people come into our lives “for a reason, a season, or for life.” This means that relationships, even very close ones, can last for a short period of time around a particular need, for a longer period of time, or throughout your whole life. It is not a failure if you part ways once a relationship has run its course. That ending will only lead to a new beginning—for each of you. Some friendships need to end, just as some romantic relationships need to end, to allow each of you to grow. No doubt it’s often very hard to see that during the time period a separation is occurring. What’s dangerous is getting stuck in the ending and focusing on the loss instead of learning to treasure the value brought by the relationship. As a wise friend once reminded me, that hole in your heart is not loss—it’s an opening. Everyone who has crossed my path over these six decades has taught me something and helped create the person that I am today. Without all those experiences, all those endings and beginnings, I wouldn’t be the “me” that met Trish. Every one of those endings lead to a beginning that kept me moving forward.

I’m remembering that now, as we asymptotically approach the start date for our home renovation. (A little math humor for my STEM friends.) The house is all packed up. I’m sitting in a folding chair in an empty living room with no art on the walls. It feels like my first apartment in my 20’s! I feel uprooted; unsettled. It feels very much like an “ending.” I know, though, that this discomfort is really about a “beginning.” Remembering that helps me find my way forward, just like it did every time I changed schools or jobs or even relationships. It’s scary when something ends and something new begins. Let the possibilities of the beginning excite you.