Beginnings and the things that follow.

This is the beginning of a blog. You will read it through, and then will come the end. 

Everything, as the tibetans say, is made of a beginning and an ending. Nothing that ever starts will continue to be forever. Even a black hole will cease, although by it’s own definition it is one continual end. Life, not to sound like a bore, is made up of these starts and finishes. It need not be a race, we are not in the one hundred meter sprint. We aren’t even in a 3000m cross country run… but after the start pistol has sounded there is only one definite that will follow. You may fall over a rock, you may slip on a slug, you may think you hear someone call your name and, whilst turning, smash your face into a tree. You may do all of these things, or none. But at some point the race will be over, whatever else happens. 

Now, this all sounds increasingly morbid. To clarify, this blog is not about death, not in its immediate sense. It’s not about The Art of Living and Dying, although that is a very interesting and recommended read. It’s about things when they begin and end, and what happens when they do. 

When you finish your ice cream the obvious consequence is to reach into the freezer and fill you bowl again to stop the ‘finish’ from happening. This can only be done for so long. You either come to the end of the tub, or realise the 2nd and 3rd trips to the corner shop were unnecessary, indulgent and greedy. You could just stop. Your ice cream would come to an end. There would be no more… but almost instantly something else would begin. It may be a thirst. Your teeth might ache. You may feel full. From the end becomes a beginning.  These beginnings can be huge and of massive significance, equally they can be so infinitesimally tiny they go almost unnoticed, but that inception, that moment of creation is there. They are the ones to watch out for. 

You’ve written a letter (on paper, your internet is broken and you’ve remember you, at some point in your schooling, were taught how to use a pen), you sign off, place your pen to one side and fold the paper. You get your envelope and place your missive within it. Lick, stick. You get a stamp, cursing the ridiculous new stamp system the Post Office has put in place; IS this a large letter or not? What actually specifies a ‘large letter’? Idiots, you think. You uncertainly make the call, it’s not large, it’s medium… and the fools haven’t got a medium letter stamp (or a small for that matter), so a regular one will have to do. Stamp affixed you walk, letter in hand, to the post box at the end of your road. It boarded up. You still have a letter and no means of posting it. The next post box is 10 minutes away… it’s a nice day, you decide to walk for the fresh air. It’s glorious outside and you have a letter to post, what’s ten minutes? The walk takes you through a series of little streets and back roads. You see a cat, it sees you. You both stop. What you want for it to do is either talk or display the skills of a super ninja cat. It does neither, just looks at you, blinks and pads off. You keep walking and the post box is within your sight. It’s not boarded up. It open like a smiley red mouth wanting to eat your letter. You post. ‘Thuth’ it sounds as it falls on the pile of letters already on their journey. You turn and walk home.

On that journey were hundreds, if not thousands, of beginnings and endings. You probably noticed three, maybe four. What would have happened if you choose to take a different road? Began on a different path… Would you end up at a different post box? Would you have ‘ended’ your search for a post box all together? What if you’d stopped at just finishing your letter… and the ‘start’ of actually posting it had never happened? So many moments of conception and conclusion that were never realised.  

I guess when it comes down to it, sometimes, there’s choice. It’s that choice that makes things interesting. What do I choose to start and what do I choose to finish? Will I follow the cat? Will I then enter the Matrix?

Everything that starts will finish. Everything. It’s the moments along the way to watch out for. Unless it’s ice cream, and then I’d say just enjoy the lot, although maybe that's just as true for life.