Endings, Part 1

Endings are often just that – endings. If one is fortunate, however, endings are just a pause before a new beginning. I have had a few endings recently, and in one case, it is a continuation. In another, it is a new beginning.

When my father passed away in 2018, I envisioned a series of books, written by the ADF Clergy Council, entitled Transitions. The titles are Beginnings, followed by Endings. Unions would come next, then Dissolutions.

Beginning came out in 2022, and just recently, Endings was released by ADF Publishing. I am proud of both offerings, and I ask that you take a look at them for your own practice. They are an excellent collection of prayers and rituals for transitional times in our lives.

Fortunately, when transitions happen in our lives, things change. Amidst these changes, we can choose to continue as we were, seemingly unaffected, and live our lives as if nothing has happened. One may try to do this, but the reality of the situation is that something has changed and so have we.

Our practice, which is our religious or spiritual practice, reflects the world around us. Our practice contains those things we wish we would have, the reality we would like to engage in, and what is ultimately the case.

The beginning of prayer

Need is the beginning of prayer, as I often say. If things are going well, for most people, we do not seem to remember the Gods and spirits in our world. when serenity flees from our world, we call out to the Gods and spirits that we may have forgotten.

When we experience endings, for example, when those who have been a part of our workings take a turn for the worse, we redouble our efforts towards the healing spirits that we consider to be friends or allies.

When we are faced with more permanent endings, such as when our loved ones or those in whose care we are entrusted or engaged pass away, we suddenly find a void in our practice. It seems odd – although not altogether out of the ordinary – to continue where they were, at least for a time. One must then decide what to do with the recently departed.

The recitation of names

For myself, those who pass from this realm move into the world of the Ancestors and deserve the respect and consideration due those who have left this immediate world for the next. In my own practice, I add them to the list of entities that are remembered daily. I feel that the Ancestors should be named aloud every day, that their names should resound once again in this world, although they are resident or present in another (possibly inter-related) world.

I often wonder about this practice. The recitation of names is an important part of my practice and my world, but I wonder what will happen when my turn to join the ancestors passes. I am quite sure that many of the names that I speak are known only to me, so the possibility that this exact practice will continue is highly unlikely, and, in some way sad, that it will end.

Ask the trees

Perhaps I could speak to the trees, and ask them for a final wish. I could ask that they continue to say the names as the wind moves through their branches. If I am lucky, they will include my names along with those of the others in just the right place.

When my ashes are spread in this or another green world, and I am absorbed into the soil, perhaps my remains will be absorbed into a tree somewhere. As I become a part of that amazing entity that we call trees, perhaps will be fortunate enough to add my voice to the chorus of leaves, and buds, and branches, and I will sing those names once again, aloud in the world.

I wonder, aloud, if perhaps the sounds that rush through the branches is the song of all lives, sung again and again. Sing it every day, as those things that are passing join with all that is coming into being to describe a world that is both endings and beginnings, all at the same time.