And so I say, it is not the end that is most frightening. It’s the beginning that follows. An end is welcome, it is a completion, and closed circle that holds within it everything that was known and done. The line drawn in permenant ink can not be reopened, the contents of the completed shape not rearranged. A new one must be started, right next to it. It may overlap, or it may not. Which is why we feel that fear. Because as pen tip touches paper, where that new line will go, how far of a circumference it will create, is unknowable. When it will close, what it will hold inside, is yet to be seen. But that should not unsteady our hand. Because just like the circle before it, it will end, and other will one day begin. A chain link of life unfolding, with the instrument of direction at our fingertips.