A month or so ago, I was writing (incessantly) about the end of the school year and the way it triggers a cascade of sadness for me. I was thinking about it even more unremittingly, I assure you. One detail that kept popping up in my mind was the fact that graduation, one of the most official markers of an end in our culture, is called commencement. I started writing about that several times, but never really figured out what I wanted to say.
I guess another month of life, with my baby losing his first tooth and my daughter slipping into flip-flops that sometimes get confused for mine has made it clear. Isn’t this fact, on the surface odd, just a more elegant way of describing what might be the central preoccupation of my life? Commencement. You end and you begin, on the very same day.
As something ends something new begins. Even though I never, ever embrace the endings, I am often surprised with joy at the beginnings. You’d think after 36 years I might have figured this out. You might imagine that I would have learned to lean into the certainty that there is sunshine around the corner. Unfortunately, you would be wrong. My sentimentality and melancholy is nothing if not tenacious, and it refuses to yield to logic.
Yes, I know all of the trite sayings: when a door closes, a window opens. Etc. I even know they are true. But still. But still.
One thing I know I write over and over here is the basic, simple tenet of begin again. I stumble, I fall, I mess up, I yell, I shout. I regret. Oh, wow, do I regret. I am sometimes so suffused with regret I can’t see anything else. But what else is there to go other than to begin again?
Other than to commence?
(PS Commencement is the title of J. Courtney Sullivan’s first book, which I read and enjoyed. I highly recommend also her new novel, Maine, which I read last week.
Sometimes, I think every day is really commencement day. It sure feels like it lately…
Thanks for this, Lindsey, and for the book rec. Putting it on the list!
XOXO
Lindsey – with increasing frequency, I think you must be living inside my head. “You might imagine that I would have learned to lean into the certainty that there is sunshine around the corner. Unfortunately, you would be wrong.” I, too, work really hard at hanging onto the certainty that the sunshine inevitably finds me, but feel like I’m still in my infancy in mastering that. It helps immensely to know I’m not alone in feeling this way.
Uh oh, looks like the universe is sending another book my way – my mother recommended this book to me yesterday. We have spent the last 12 summer vacations in York, Maine, and have spent many a day on the shores of Cape Neddick. Can’t wait to read it.
i really like this. a very poignant meditation.
wow. I never associated “commencement” with beginning. Duh. Lovely post and it made me feel better about everything. Thank you!
Lindsey, beautifully expressed musings. Lately, I’ve been feeling that when I take the mental/spiritual/emotional/tangible opportunity to begin again, I liberate myself. And when I’m able to trust the process, and the unfolding of things without trying to forcibly control, my discomfort with beginnings and endings lessens somewhat. Thank you so much for pointing out the endings / commencement association!
Kindred, as always. I’m beginning again. Right now. xo
So simple, but so true.
Begin again.
What more can we do?
As someone who just graduated from college, I find a lot of comfort and inspiration in these words. Commencement. The beginning of an end. One chapter of life ends as another begins. Change is funny like that. It can happen sometimes without you even noticing it. And then other times, we chose to stop and examine it–even celebrate it. I am always a nostalgic person so I always get a little teary eyed about endings, but I have learned to also keep my head up and ready for the smiles and laughter ahead.