Graduation season makes us think fondly of endings. Our granddaughter was so sad last week because it was the last day of preschool forever, and it was a happy place and she loved her teachers and her friends and now it’s all over (sniffle).
Today she was shocked to discover a tooth fell out while eating lunch—endings.
The end of childhood, the last day of high school, college. The last day of being single, the last day as a couple without children… A well accomplished end is cause for celebration.
The ending of the known secure traded freely or not for the unknown hope. But for sure, you can’t stay here once it’s there’s time and just as surely, you can’t get to there without releasing here.
Once in a while there are trusted scouts who go over there and send back a report as to what we can expect, maybe even a map or directions of how to get there.
The best is when a scout returns and serves as guide, coach, mentor, encourager; ‘let’s go there together, I know the way, it’ll be fun!’
Endings always involve loss and in spite of the hope—you get to take your lunch every day to kindergarten—beginnings always involve apprehension, if you’ve got a lick of sense.
Good leadership puts the led before self and doesn’t let go until the destination is reached and the once dependent follower is independently on their way to interdependence.
On the farm this week, we have had a remarkably slow start to our season, but finally, today, we are seeing things pick up quantity wise. I’m so grateful for our employee’s sake; slow doesn’t pay the rent. The citrus crop was light, so that harvest ended a month early, and our stone fruit season had been slow to gain momentum.
Now the blackberries have really been interesting. It looks like you pick the black ones and in a few days, there are more! I haven’t the foggiest idea how long this is going to last, but for sure another couple weeks but maybe three or four. Next year, we’ll be blackberry professionals, but right now the whole thing is an amazing wonder how just a few weeks from blooming you are picking ripe berries.
I hope we never lose this sense of wonder. Loss of wonderment is the definition of old. So, do you think maybe beginning new things, experiencing new things, and thus experiencing wonder could be the real source of a youthful perspective? And would people be willing to invest in such a perspective? They’d have to release here.
Maybe we could write an ad; Are you feeling curmudgeonly? Same old same old day after year after decade? Well, such a deal we have for you! For the price of some seed packets and a little sweat, you could take an unused corner of earth, add compost, some seed and water, and oh the wonder you will experience. That seemingly dead seed will push up and make real food, beautiful flowers, but mostly, you will experience wonder that never grows old, that fires your imagination, that brings you along with it.
Endings lead to beginnings.