‘Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.’
This letting go of a love or a season can be harsh; though maybe beginnings and endings are ghostly fences of our imagination, erected in fear – and do not exist in themselves.
For start and finish, and finish and start, they merge into one, without clear lines of demarcation.
Sometimes we shall say ‘This is an end.’
And sometimes we shall say ‘This is a beginning.’
But there is just the forming and reforming of life; an endless collapse and creation, like the waves.
Today is both ending and beginning, a shift in the tectonic plates, a re-configuration of our adventure.
Tomorrow, we will not be able to return to today…any more than we can return to a wave.
But this is goodbye and hello.
Watery change, ceasing to be one thing, becoming another, occurring in the darkness of the night…change occurs, but always out of sight.
Always unfolding, but the rise and the fall are one; and the more we greet and plunge and swim…
… the more we live.
