On Rituals, Endings and Finishing Strong
Hello dear reader.
When something ends in our lives, there is usually a ritual, ceremony, or gathering to mark the official end of the chapter. You want a period at the end of the sentence to close it off. To complete it. At least I do.
I am struggling with accepting the reality of how my job as the CEO of a national organization ended. To use a sport analogy, I didn’t ‘finish strong.’1 And this is nagging at the edges of my brain. It’s impeding my ability to move forward.
As I approach the third anniversary of going on medical leave, leaving people I care about behind and never going back, my lack of a proper ending and not finishing strong is weighing on me.
You want the loop to be closed, the bow to be tied, the handoff to the next person in good order. You want the circle to be complete.
But, what happens when it’s not? When it’s messy, or worse yet, not even messy, just silent. You’ve simply removed yourself from your past life.
You’ve ghosted yourself.
In Cognitive Process Therapy,2 this is called a ‘stuck point.’ Working my way through this stuck point and others relating to work and my career, its sobering to realize how much value and worth I placed on this one area of my life. My worth was defined by my job and I don’t want to repeat this mistake. It’s keeping me stuck. I know it and I want to change it.
The power of rituals.
wrote about the meaning of rituals in our lives, and it’s got me thinking about things left undone and regrets.I was able to make peace with what I believe was my oldest regret … the regret that we, my sister’s family, were so in shock after her death, that we left that hospital room without a healing ritual to nourish our broken hearts. Had someone suggested that we sing a song, or recite a poem, or hold each other, or give her a hug … the traumatic experience would have been lessened.
During the retreat, I was given a beautiful gift. We re-created Tracy’s last few moments. Six women, one for each of my family members, surrounded me and together, we swayed and wept and hugged each other to a beautiful piece of music. At the end of the song, I was able to thank each of my family members for this sacred ritual of ‘sending Tracy home.’
That is the power of rituals.
First Nations culture in Canada is filled with rituals and ceremony. Through my work, I’ve been fortunate enough to have witnessed and participated in several ceremonies.
One was a sacred blessing before the start of a major construction project. The elders from the community asked for permission and a blessing of the project from their deceased ancestors before excavation could begin on their traditional lands. This is especially important if there is the possibility that unknown ancient burial sites could be located in some areas of the excavation. It included prayers, burning of offerings, a feast and exchange of gifts in the forms of blankets and coins.
Others have included drumming, dancing and burning sweet grass prior to the signing of an agreement between the First Nation and the provincial government.
Before any meeting or any major project or event, there would be a traditional welcome and prayer and there would be another ritual to mark the end. When I was very young and first experienced this cultural tradition, I sat impatiently wanting to get on with the meeting. I had no cultural awareness or training.
After witnessing the power of such rituals and ceremony, I came to appreciate them, plan for them, expect them and take great comfort in them.
With new beginnings come endings.
Others mark beginnings and endings through tattoos. One gentleman shared with me a tattoo on his left shoulder for when he entered the military. Another tattoo on his back between his shoulder blades he got in the middle of his career, and now he’s planning to get a tattoo on his opposite shoulder to mark the end of his military career. A story in three acts, marked on his body as a testament and reminder, but complete. A beginning, middle and end.
For others it’s been a major trek, think Cheryl Strayed in Wild. (
, I’m looking at you!)You can’t go back and change the ending, but it’s still possible to feel a sense of completion. I’m looking for my own version of a completion ceremony. I don’t know yet what that is going to look like for me, but I’m open to ideas.
Keep (un)Learning. KVB. xo
What say you?
Have you made up a ritual or a ceremony to mark when something ends in your life?
Or do you move on without looking back?
Is there a formal act, words or ritual from your cultural experience that marks the end or completion of something you can share with us?
The reality was I was very sick and in no way capable of finishing strong. But, as you start to feel better, you begin the magical thinking that has you conveniently forgetting the facts.
Cognitive Processing Therapy is a form of cognitive behaviour treatment developed to help alleviate the symptoms from PTSD. It is an intensive 12-week program which can be done individually or in a group setting. I would highly recommend for anyone who has complex PTSD.
Endings have been tricky for me, and I can relate to the abruptness you experienced with your job, your body necessitating the exit. Because I navigate the world kinesthetically, I often feel the need to simply “go dark” after something ends, let go of expectations of it needing to look a certain way, otherwise my mind can get in the way of my body doing the unwinding in her own way, and in her own timing. If that makes any sense! (It does to my body…😂)
I hadn’t considered all the ways that not “finishing strong” in different areas of life had weighed on me until you wrote this piece. And I certainly hadn’t thought about rituals as a way of coping with this particular challenge. Such a thought-provoking piece, Kim!