The Truth About Endings

During a recent hiking endeavor, I had a moment of clarity. I usually do in these situations. The trail came with many challenges; a hard map to navigate through, trails that intertwined and looped within one another, and rocky pathways. It tested me to the point where I was complaining to myself quite a bit. It was just five miles, but it felt much longer. Generally, I enjoy the scenery and quietness of the great outdoors, but this round had me praying for a knockout. I was ready to quit.

When the trail finally opened to the parking area, the idea of endings circulated through my mind. Much like hiking, our personal, inner journeys navigate us through challenging trails. We sweat, we complain and we keep checking the map. We want to stop for breaks, we get a little lost and eventually have to redirect ourselves, and we may even get emotional. Throughout the journey we may ask ourselves, “When is this going to end?”

When the trail is long and complicated, we may spend a majority of our expedition focusing on getting back to our cars. I did most of that hike. The distance between me and the exit was not shrinking fast enough. The frustration crept through my veins. The anticipation of leaving that trail in the dust increased with each step I took.

When the hike ended, however, I felt a tinge of sadness. It was at that moment I realized that it’s not about conclusions. The most important part is the time between the beginning and the end. The real experience is when we are right in the middle of the perceived chaos.

It’s in the process of our learning, of our healing, that we uncover the most important parts of ourselves. It’s in the work, where we dig up all the necessary knowledge we need to move further through our journey. It’s while we are sweating, crying, complaining for the end, that we are roller coastering through the most intense emotions. It’s on the trail, in the void, or while we're waiting in the hallways of closed doors, that we make all the important discoveries. Then the doors open, the trail ends, or the sun peeks up from the horizon.

When it comes to internal journeys, endings are not this dramatic event that we get to look forward to. For the most part, they’re quiet, and very subtle. There could be a slight feeling of euphoria, but there is no grand celebration. Just a discrete transition into the next big adventure.

There isn't this finish line we cross where we are greeted with congratulations and a trophy. Usually it’s just a feeling where you know something new is coming. It’s a time when you walk away from your old life and cross the threshold into the new one. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to get a moment of, “this is finally over.” Most of the time, it’s just the brief exhale we get to take right before we start the next chapter.

As I watched the line of trees open up and I made my way through the open space, it was at that moment I realized that it’s not about the endings. Regardless of how difficult the situation may be, or how heavy the storm is, it’s about everything you get to take with you when it’s all over. All those important pieces you picked up along the way. It’s knowing there will eventually be an ending, but the focus is on the present. It’s the sights, the experiences, the abilities, and the knowledge that are acquired along the journey.