Inquiries About Finality

Moirai Mimicry, Atropos Acts by Me

How do you know it's the end? How do you know when to end it? How can you tell when something has run its course? This kind of arbitration plagues me in so much of what I do. I've never initiated the dissolution of any relationship I've been in. If you read my blog you might be able to tell that most of my posts end somewhat disjointedly. I'm not a finisher. But pruning is necessary for any worthwhile growth, right? And I specify pruning, not the brutally destructive flames of burning bridges. How do you know when a branch is no longer beneficial to growth?

Having never learned these things I've developed a sort of hoarder mentality in aspects of my life. I sentimentally retain the useless wrappers from the new thing I buy. I keep facebook friends that I haven't spoken to in years and don't expect to in the distant future. I saved the page of that one thing you posted that I thought you were amazing for. I hold out hope that memorial refuse will be relevant again. I end up holding onto the memory of something that was never really there. I think I'm afraid of acknowledging that.

Maybe this sentimental debris is one of things holding me back. It's strangely paradoxical; admitting that I don't truly have something is preventing me from gaining something new. Then again, my sentimentality is what keeps this blog alive. I started it at a time when peers typically started blogs and abandoned them when that shine wears off, when the engagement desists and their wealth of brownnose peers get tired of giving them social proof. Deleting them or leaving the derelict memories in a corner of a server somewhere. But I keep it up when only a couple of people ever let me know they've even once looked forward to this edited thought vomit.

After I made the first draft of this post, having trouble finishing yet another thing, I came across some advice from Dr. John Gottman on the Four Horsmen of the Apocalypse [of a relationship]. It isn't the definitive guide to telling when something will end or how to end it but I think it's a good start. It's one step on that journey.

That step, however, is in the direction of another goal and another question. Once one knows how and when to end things, how do you begin?

What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from. 

TS (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, "Four Quartets"




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考え

does anybody read these?