Hello folks,
This issue of Carousel has been brewing for a while.
I’ve just moved to Brighton so the last two weeks have been busy with settling in, but I knew I wanted to capture the end of my London chapter before it became too distant a memory (I can feel it edging further and further around the Carousel into oblivion…)
I’ve just had a beautiful sunny afternoon ramble across across the hills near my house via a dip in the sea. These words started to fall into my brain (as they often do when I’m away from my phone and walking) and so I knew it was time to write.
Wherever you’re at, sending you a big hug.
Sarah x
ps. If you’re new to Carousel, you can find out about the framework here.
Why we need to make time for Beautiful Endings
I’ve been reflecting on how common it is for people to only appreciate and take stock of their lives when they know they’re going to die.
Earlier societies used to have ‘memento moris’ - literally ‘reminders that they were going to die’ - in the forms of rings, objects or paintings in the ceilings of pubs. This meant they were constantly feeling the jolt of aliveness that comes with facing their mortality.
Knowing something is coming to an end is such a catapult into presence.
And yet, as a society we are terrible at endings. We fear them, avoid them and rush them.
Perhaps this is because endings remind us of death. But what if endings could be beautiful?
As Carousellers we face endings all the time. We’re naturally stopping and starting as we allow ourselves to be with what feels most alive. Many of our projects are focused but short, interests can be deep but fleeting, relationships intense but brief. Our change in activity can sometime appear unfocused, but when we stop and notice these points of transition, there is a huge opportunity…
Any time we reach an ending, it can be a chance to take stock, integrate and digest what has just happened in our life.
As Carousellers we get to regularly process what a period of time has meant to us.
We get to harvest the learnings and say ‘ahhh that’s what that was about!’
We get to discard anything that no longer works: ‘I’m not working like that again!’
We get to celebrate and feel grateful.
When we stay in any situation for too long, we start to lose the sharpness of what that experience is. It becomes auto-pilot, with one moment blurring into the next.
Endings can be a chance to feel the fullness of our life. They can be our memento moris.
I was lucky recently to have a double Beautiful Ending, as I left my flat and London at the same time. Bar a couple of stints abroad and in Devon, I’ve lived in London since 2008. I knew the move would feel big and so I wanted to leave lots of space for it.
I think past Sarah would have skirted around the ending: I’d have booked myself up, not left time to really process what was happening, and had a panicked pack at the end.
But this time I was really intentional about how I wanted to close the chapter.
🧘🏼♂️ First of all, I left loads of social space. For the final two weeks, I hardly had anything in the diary. I know I can overbook myself so I was a default ‘no’ to all social invitations. Instead I asked people if I could get back in touch nearer the time, once I’d seen how long packing etc. took. I did have time to see everyone, but I didn’t feel overwhelmed by appointments.
📦 I gave myself ample time to pack up and sort. Moving house can be such a good opportunity to have a thorough declutter: I really enjoyed downsizing my wardrobe and book shelf, giving away a whole cupboard of leftover party booze on Olio, and uber-ing 50 journals to my old house in South London so they could be burned on a full moon fire (!)
🩱 I did all my favourite activities ‘one last time’. One last swim at the reservoir, one last coffee at The Good Egg. One last haircut. One last singin swimmin wimmin meet up. I really appreciated and thanked these local places and activities that had become part of my life.
🎤 I hosted a final Day of Musical Joy. The flat had meant a lot to so many people - we’d had so many gatherings singing up in the sky - and it felt important for people to come and say goodbye. It was emotional! (Here’s the Corrs Medley we sang).
Day of Musical Joy with prints by RUDE
💃🏻 I held one of my ‘Death x Life’ huddle meet ups at my house, where we gave a toast to the house and I gave a speech; a friend cut off all her hair; and we ended in a massive dance to shake off all the stuck energy. Another friend was coming back later and text us saying ‘ARE YOU PLAYING ‘GOT TO BE REAL’?!’ as she could hear it blasting out and us singing it from the street!
🍷 I had selective one to one time with a few special people who had been significant to the flat and my life in the past 18 months.
🍝 I went to a dinner party of one of my dearest London friends.
🌅 I gave myself loads of time to be in the house and enjoy the views and sunsets. I gave my body time to adjust. I cried a lot, and felt it all.
The whole process felt so calm, spacious and gentle.
The final sunset
And you know what, by the end of these two weeks I was SO ready to leave my flat and London! I had done so many goodbye coffees, final swims, toasts to the house. My body was ready to get to the next place and start to build a life there (and I was feeling FAR from this before my final two weeks began).
I’m not saying this to be like ‘omg look at me leaving London so calmly’, but more to notice the contrast of how I used to do endings. Rushing around, putting off packing, overbooking my schedule and then feeling stressed. And this felt like such an honouring of this chapter of my life and of my time in London. And although I’d originally felt really angry and upset that this move had happened to me, without it I would never have spent that time really appreciating the community and life I had built up in the past 18 months. That chapter now feels so full, clear and brimming with memories.
What in your life deserves a beautiful ending? Where can you slow down to really d i g e s t what a chapter has meant to you?
And can you pause and take stock of this chapter of your life, even if it isn’t ending?
🎙 On the theme, here’s an episode of my podcast with Rob Grundel where we talk about his time leaving London and moving across the world to Australia. We talk about the ways he integrated the experiences he’d had in London, and about how he tried to hold on at points too…
🃁 I’m taking my ‘Beautiful Endings’ cards with me everywhere at the moment. They’re a pack of powerful questions to do with endings + letting go. Some questions are about reflecting on past endings, what was good about them, what we learned from them. Some questions ask people to think of endings that they never acknowledged, or are still in limbo. It’s so fascinating seeing people know immediately which ending is incomplete; or being moved as they realise that an ending they thought had been terrible, actually had some positives. I’ve had really connecting chats with friends who are going through similar endings to me, and had my own niggles as I’ve noticed people I need to reach out to, or parts of my life that are still not closed.
Here’s a card from the pack for this week to ponder…
‘What is a way you can support someone else with an ending right now?’
Leaving you with a gorgeous pic of Brighton seafront.
See you soon!