Selling my business marked a turning point in a story that had taken years to write. The plot required it, but that didn’t make watching the characters—the people, the memories, the identity I had built—fade any easier. After fifteen years of investing my heart and soul, it was clear the time had come to let go. But knowing and doing are often worlds apart. The emotions that surfaced weren’t just about the business; they were about me—who I was, who I am now, and who I’m becoming. This transition unearthed an uncertainty that tugged at my core, challenging a great deal of what I thought I knew about myself.

As I walked through the process of letting go, each step felt like peeling back the layers of who I had become. It was a slow, deliberate release, like letting go of a tightly held breath, making space for whatever might come next. The culmination of this came when we parted with the furniture that had filled our office space — pieces that were more than wood and fabric; they were the embodiment of our creativity, our company DNA, and the many memories that had shaped our culture.

I was mourning not just the end of a business, but the end of a chapter in my life — a chapter that had given me a deep sense of meaning.

One afternoon, after the last piece of furniture had been moved out and the rooms were empty, I stood alone in the office. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden light through the arched window. And then something extraordinary happened. The sunlight projected our company logo onto the wall, as if giving me one final, quiet moment of reflection. It was a symbol, not just of what had been, but of what was now coming to an end. And in that moment, I let the tears flow. I was mourning not just the end of a business, but the end of a chapter in my life — a chapter that had given me a deep sense of meaning.

For so long, my identity had been tied to this business, and now, I was faced with the question: Who am I without it?

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Time seemed to pause as I stood there, lost in thought. I saw the faces of the people who had been part of this journey—colleagues, clients, and friends who had shared in both the triumphs and the challenges. That sunlit logo was more than a symbol; it was a signpost on the journey of life, telling me it was time to let go and step into the unknown. For so long, my identity had been tied to this business, and now, I was faced with the question: Who am I without it?

Letting go is never easy; it takes a lot of courage, faith, and the willingness to move forward, even when the path isn’t clear. But in that moment, standing in the light of the setting sun, a powerful truth became clear to me: Endings shouldn’t be feared—they’re the catalysts for new beginnings. They give us the opportunity to honour what’s come before, to take the lessons and memories with us, and to step confidently into whatever comes next.

Embracing the space between

Endings often usher in a season of uncertainty—a place where the old has faded, yet the new has not fully emerged. This liminal, in between space can be a disorienting time, filled with questions and doubts, but it is also a time ripe with potential.

The discomfort of our endings is the fertile soil in which our new beginnings take root and grow. 

In those quiet moments of transition, it is as though we are standing on the edge of something vast and unknown. As John O'Donohue so beautifully captures in his poem For a New Beginning:

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

These words remind us that even as we stand on the brink of an ending, a new beginning is already taking shape within us. It’s waiting for us to recognize it, to trust in its timing, and to step forward with courage. The challenge lies in embracing the uncertainty, in allowing ourselves to be remade, and in understanding that the discomfort of our endings is the fertile soil in which our new beginnings take root and grow.  

In moments of transition, reflection is not just a tool, but a necessity. It’s how we make sense of what has happened, how we learn from our experiences, and how we prepare ourselves for what comes next.

The gift of reflection

In moments of transition, reflection is not just a tool, but a necessity. It’s how we make sense of what has happened, how we learn from our experiences, and how we prepare ourselves for what comes next. Reflection allows us to look back with gratitude, to see the growth that has taken place, and to carry forward the wisdom we’ve gained.

That moment with the sunlit logo was a gift. It gave me the space to pause, to honour the journey, and to say goodbye. But more importantly, it prepared me to move forward with a sense of purpose and anticipation. This is the essence of reflection—it creates the space we need for the new beginnings that are quietly forming within us. Space is being created in our life for something new to emerge. This space, born out of the ending, becomes the starting point for a new beginning.

Moving forward with intent

As you stand at the threshold of your own new beginnings, whether by choice or by the circumstances of life, remember that every ending is an opportunity for reinvention. It’s a chance to ask yourself: What truly matters to me now? Who am I becoming as I close this chapter and step into the next? What new adventures await me? These aren’t just questions for idle pondering; they’re the foundation upon which your second half will be built.

O'Donohue’s poem closes with a powerful call to action:

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Endings are not merely conclusions but invitations—openings to new rhythms, new adventures, and new beginnings. May we embrace them with open hearts and the faith that something beautiful is on the horizon.