New Beginnings
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“Always we begin again.” - Saint Benedict
What is it like to begin something new? We are beginners at many things all along our way. Even if we didn’t want to, we will be beginners with new technology, new relationships, new environments, new journeys; even something as simple as beginning a new book. As we step into the threshold of this new year, let’s consider “new beginnings.”
How do we look at beginnings? To be honest, many times I love beginnings – the excitement of something new; the thrill of expanding my world to include a new perspective; a new adventure; a new relationship; the challenge of being a lifelong learner.
There are times, however, when I hate being a beginner.
Why is that? Is it that I hate the vulnerability of not knowing, of not being accomplished at something, of failing, of falling down? Speaking of falling down, I recently took surfing lessons. Oh my gosh, it was so exhilarating and so fun AND so hard. I was so excited that I had gotten up, that I would ride the surfboard all the way in to celebrate.
Well, when you ride the wave ALL the way in, you have to paddle through ALL of the white water to get out to try again. At times I felt like I could not do one more stroke – and yet, that was the path to learning to arrive at the exhilarating moment of getting up and accomplishing the “beginning” of it all.
I recognize the challenge to be a stronger surfer when I am in an exercise class or doing yoga. The desire and goal to be strong enough to surf, to be flexible enough to straddle the surfboard, to be able to swim what seems like a city block back out to the surf zone, and even the thoughts of “practicing” create much more determination and bring more motivation to my daily routine. Because we live in Dallas, TX, more than a few miles from any surfing beach, I will probably always be a beginner surfer. But it is well worth the continual challenge and rewards of conquering my fears, and struggling with the never-ending question if I can do it or not.
Photos taken in ventura, california.
To learn surfing was a choice. To be a beginner at being with your Dad as he is dying is not. We can do our best to prepare our hearts for such moments, but rarely do those final moments line up as our expectations may have painted the scene. We are all beginners, aren’t we?
I love this picture of Dad and me dancing at my niece’s wedding.
Photographer: Alexandra Joplin, Lubbock, Texas
For me, living in Des Moines, Iowa, 887 miles from Lubbock, Texas, where Mother and Daddy lived, I always wondered if I would be able to “be there” when they died. I visited them often…and it was a long way. Eventually we moved to Dallas, which meant I was now only 10 minutes away from Mom and Dad’s assisted living home. It was wonderful to see them more often, especially as Dad’s health declined and we knew our time together was short.
Then in March 2020, our daughter Jill, and her fiancé, Brent, were married in Nepal. When we left on a month-long trip to Nepal for the wedding and a family hiking adventure, it was obvious that Dad was not doing well. Saying goodbye suddenly meant more than it ever had. Fearing that he might not be there when we returned, I said what I thought was my final goodbye as best I knew how. I held his hands, I prayed for both my parents as I saw the pain and fear in Mom’s eyes, I told Dad how much I loved him and respected him, I hugged him, I looked in his precious hazel eyes, and then I hugged Mom and left the assisted living to go finish packing. What a deeply emotional moment. I was leaving for one of the most special moments of our lives, as our daughter began a new phase of her life and we celebrated together in beautiful Nepal, and my heart was heavy with fear and grief.
Little could any of us have imagined, there would be a change for ALL of us with the ensuing pandemic. We were in Nepal only a few days when we began to hear the murmurings in the news of the seriousness of the pandemic. Twenty-five days later we were one of the last flights out of Nepal…coming home to a much different world, an empty DFW airport, an utterly changed reality.
I wanted to see Mom and Dad immediately upon our arrival, but Roger and I were unable to visit due to the strict visiting restrictions for assisted living facilities, and because we had been traveling internationally. We arrived home on March 24th, and Dad passed away on April 1st, 2020. Not as I had planned. I had wondered all of those years in Des Moines how it would be if Mom or Dad died while I was so far away, and now I was 10 minutes away and unable to be with them. Thankfully, Melinda and Annette, my sisters, were able to be present with Mom and Dad during those sacred moments. The next months were days and days of visiting Mom through the window as she grieved the loss of her husband of almost 63 years.
Photo taken in Dallas, Texas.
I share this story to illustrate that we are ALWAYS going to be beginners in life. In love, in birth, in illness, in transitions, in walking through death with others, in dying ourselves. There is simply no certainty for when all of the moments we will be beginners will arrive – we just know that they will. Thankfully, we can lean into our experiences, our values and the mystery of our faith as beacons of light and hope.
So, the question I ask myself – and the concept I want to embrace is – how can I welcome the idea of being a beginner? How can I invite the insecurity, the vulnerability, the “not knowing,” the “not always in control” aspects of being a beginner?
As we focus on “New Beginnings” this month, may we reflect on how we can embrace the idea – even welcome and invite the idea – of being a lifelong beginner. Can we practice being a beginner? Could it be that being a beginner is something to celebrate? Let’s explore that together as we begin this new year.
Roger, my husband, has written a poem that is a beautiful tribute to beginnings. Enjoy!
