A metaphor for endings

“Everything has seasons, and we have to be able to recognize when something’s time has passed and be able to move into the next season. Everything that is alive requires pruning as well, which is a great metaphor for endings”.

Henry Cloud

Those who are anything but the most casual of visitors to this digital bailiwick will be aware that this has been a particularly trying year for The Girl and I. The implications of our various travails will inevitably rumble on for some time yet to come, but I will do my very best not to bore on about them too much here.

However, as the prepended Henry Cloud quote aptly reminds us, we are approaching the ending of the year and the changing of the seasons. Things can and do change constantly (of which there is nothing to be afraid) and we must needs indeed carry out some regular pruning, so that the blossoms may flourish anew in the years to come.

Those here for the long haul will already be aware of my habit of looking both forward and back (Janus-like) at this juncture of the year and will be unsurprised to find me taking full advantage of that annual ritual to update the gentle reader on a variety of present topics over the festive season.

These subjects I will certainly address:

• The fallout from our aborted ‘trip of a lifetime’ to Botswana back in May/June. Progress on the recovery of our disbursements is glacial – but just consider what those gargantuan ice-flows are capable of inflicting upon a landscape. It may be a grind but ‘justice’ must eventually be done.
• The Girl has decided that it is time for some major changes in her life. Old doors will be closed but new ones almost certainly opened. Stay tuned for the full details.
• This time last year The Chanteuse and I proposed some loftily ambitious extensions to our musical project. Whereas things are taking longer to realise than we might have hoped, we are making good progress. There is exciting news to report – the which will be the subject of a post very soon.
• Each year I ask myself afresh if I wish to continue with my periodic teaching at the College. Now, I have a big birthday coming up shortly (I do not really celebrate the lesser ones) so the question is particularly pertinent. I find to my surprise that the playing field has altered somewhat since last I gave the matter my consideration.

These – and other pressing subjects – will have lights shone bright upon them in the interests of illumination.

For now – I am writing this at 10 o’clock of the evening in the arrivals hall at Victoria International airport – awaiting The Girl’s timely return from Mexico. As I am considerably less than half the chap that I can be whenever she is not around, this is not a moment too soon.