the art of endings

I have never been very good at dealing with endings. I remember as a child I’d become very upset when things came to a close: school years, summer breaks, family gatherings. It wasn’t so much fear of what was to come. I don’t think I was particularly afraid to start school or meet new people, and I don’t remember feeling worried about being separated from my parents in the way that some children are. It was more the thought that whatever phase I was living in couldn’t be preserved. That the exact feeling of that moment couldn’t be replicated, and would have to be tucked away neatly into a memory.

I feel that way about my PhD finishing. I am so ready to be done, acutely aware of the toll it’s taken on my wellbeing, and excited about what’s going to come next. But still, I feel myself caught in a heaviness, trying to process that this is actually going to come to an end. I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time (four years!), but it suddenly feels very real. I’m at the point of filling in the paperwork, planning the practicalities of wrapping up these years of my life. I’m back in my childhood bedroom on the last day of the school year, trying not to cry at the thought of it actually being over.

This time around, the process of change has been prolonged. I moved away from Oxford about nine months ago to finish up my doctorate remotely, and the move marked an ending of its own. I’ve watched friends and colleagues move on too: the people I started my PhD alongside making their own moves, submitting their theses, setting off on various impressive postdoctoral paths. The process of finishing up a PhD is not a neat one, but rather a series of small moments together marking the end of something bigger.

I don't think there is a formula for navigating such endings well. For a long time, I was quite harsh on myself for feeling these transitions so deeply. I assumed I was somehow doing endings wrong; too soft, too nostalgic. It seemed that everyone else was simply better at moving on than I was. This felt especially irrational when I was genuinely excited about whatever was coming next.

I have learned to be much gentler with myself. It is entirely reasonable to feel untethered when something important comes to a close. In fact, I suspect that there are many people around me feeling the same, even if we don’t talk about it very much.

Rather than beating myself up for feeling this way, I've gradually gathered a handful of rituals and reflections that make periods of transition feel a little less untethered.

They aren't intended to make endings hurt less, but to help me move through them a little more gently. I wanted to share some of them below, in case they help you too.

The rest of this piece is for paid subscribers. ★ I share eight rituals and reflections that have helped me navigate endings a little more gently over the years.