In Buddhist philosophy, one is often directed to return to beginner’s mind. Sitting, breathing, returning, returning. The end is the beginning. The beginning leads to the end, creating a never-ceasing circle - a breath, a moon cycle, a wave upon the shore, a life. It is a good thought to hold on to, even though it is illusive, like holding sand in a bucket full of holes.

It used to be that life was about gathering experiences, always looking for the next one. How lucky were we to drive to a plane and fly to a new destination where we jumped on a train to get somewhere new! To breathe different air, to see different faces, to eat unique food, and to hear different languages spoken! It was a richness that we thought would always be there. That was before the pandemic that brought our lives to a halt. Who knew this would lead us back to ourselves again and again, asking our inner worlds to expand to the size of our outer worlds. And now, those experiences are our bread and butter, served with gratitude. Now, this is what we are being asked to do: to feast on our lives and experiences, our loves and our shadows, the state of our minds and the quality of our friendships. We are being asked to slow down and heal our broken hearts, to look at the monsters under the bed, and find our courage. It’s inviting our helplessness and rage, teaching us that we must dig deep to find our true ways of interacting with the world. Where is our real voice? Where is our will? How are we facing down fear? How strong is our imagination as we envision the world we want to hope for?

The old ways are ending and we don’t know what this means. So what do humans do? Even in isolation we reach for each other. Even in separation we yearn to hug and touch. Even in illness we seek to provide comfort. We choose these things because, at last, we are becoming quiet enough to hear the voice of our souls. There may be an answer and there may not. We don’t know if this ending is a beginning, but our humanness is willing us to find out.