WE NEED SPACE FOR ENDINGS

As the New Year begins, we’re flooded with ideas about “newness”...new goals, new habits, new versions of ourselves. But I’ve been reflecting on something we don’t talk about enough: endings.

In July 2024, I joined the board of a local charity, one that’s been part of the community for over 15 years. It quickly became clear that the organisation was no longer financially viable. Yet, the idea of letting it go—of allowing it to die—was almost unthinkable. For years, it had been limping along, held together by a refusal to admit it might be time to let it end.

This experience has taught me how much we resist the idea of endings, whether in organisations, products, ideas, or even parts of ourselves. We don’t build space for what I’d call organisational composting: the process of letting something return to the earth so that new growth can emerge.

In rural communities especially, where traditions and ways of working often feel like they’ve been etched into the landscape, this can be even harder. The tension between holding onto what has always been and creating space for younger generations to step forward with new ideas is very real. It’s a delicate process, one that requires trust, humility, and a willingness to loosen our grip on tightly held beliefs about how things should be.

The truth is, ending something gracefully, in a way that honours its life and its contributions, can be just as powerful, and just as necessary, as starting something new. But it’s not easy. It’s uncomfortable. It brings up grief, uncertainty, and the fear of a void. Over the last few months, I’ve had to learn how to navigate this. It’s a skill I didn’t know I needed, but it’s opened my eyes to something fundamental...

Whenever we create, build, or start something new, we should also ask: What is the plan for its end? How do we allow for closure that is celebratory, rather than difficult and drawn out? What needs to return to the compost heap to make way for the next thing?

I think we’d do well to hold space for both beginnings and endings. To embrace not only the “new” but the grace of letting go.

Because sometimes, the best way to nurture the future is by honouring what needs to rest in the soil.