Some children have safety blankets or lucky teddy bears; Sally had her Wishing Shoes.
They had sparkly laces and stars on the sides, and she had squealed for hours when her Nana gave them to her for her birthday. She put them on immediately and said, “Nana, I’m never going to take these off! Nevernevernever!”
The thrill grew when she ran to the playground and all her friends – and all her enemies – were drawn over to admire her sparkly shiny shoes. Even Jessie, her Biggest Enemy In The World, had to grudgingly admit they were “pretty cool”.
For months all was glorious with Sally and her Wishing Shoes, but this wouldn’t be a story if things ended here.
Sally was lacing her Wishing Shoes for a day feeding the ducks when Mumsy said, “Sweetie, are your shoes getting too tight? They look pretty tight.”
She thought about it and realised that this was true. Her feet did feel a little… smooshed… inside her shoes in a way they never used to.
Mumsy looked sympathetic and a little apprehensive as she said, “Darling, I think it’s time for a new pair of shoes. I know you love those ones, but they’re too small for you now.”
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! No no no no no no no no no noooo no nuh-uh no! I’m not gonna stop so there!” Red in the face and tiny fists grimly defiant, Sally was clearly prepared to die for her country and her Wishing Shoes.
Mumsy capitulated. “Well, soon enough you’ll have to stop wearing them, Sally. Your feet are still growing, you know.”
“Never!” Sally ran in her tight Wishing Shoes to the park. They weren’t too bad, she thought. It’ll be okay.
And for another couple of weeks it was. When she took off her Wishing Shoes each afternoon her feet were swirled and tattooed with red seam lines and circles, but that was okay, that could be ignored.
One Tuesday afternoon Jessie, her Biggest Enemy In The World, challenged her to a race to the end of the park and back. At Mark’s yell they both sprinted across the grass, and immediately Sally’s feet stared to hurt. She could feel them in her shoes, unable to move right, unable to stretch and flex and run. She finished a full minute behind the obscenely triumphant Jessie and started to cry.
But still she wouldn’t abandon her Wishing Shoes. Her Mumsy asked her to, and so did Dad, and Nana would have if she lived nearby… but she was firm. There was NO WAY she could be parted from her Wishing Shoes, and that was that.
Running became impossible, along with climbing trees and her favourite monkey-bars trick. Her ankles started looking a bit weird as bits of her feet tried to escape the Wishing Shoes. Even getting the Wishing Shoes on in the morning had become a complicated and painful logistics exercise.
No matter. Sally loved her Wishing Shoes, and Sally refused to abandon her Wishing Shoes.
There is no idea how long this would have gone on for if not for the ducks. The was feeding them stale bread crusts and Sally took the opportunity to stand in the cool water for a half hour – it felt very soothing.
Afterward they all laid around in the sun for awhile talking about superheroes before heading home. Sally, with a small and unconscious feeling of relief, sat on the bed to undo her laces.
But they were stuck fast. They had got wet and then dried tighter and her small fingers couldn’t budge them.
“Mumsy, can you untie my laces?” Mumsy tried, and tried hard, but the knot was a tiny bundle and her bigger fingers scrabbled over the knot again and again. Sally realised that her feet were really uncomfortable now.
Mumsy called Dad and he had a go, but he couldn’t budge it either. He sighed. “Sweetie, we’re going to have to cut the laces off. There’s no other way to get these off you.”
Sally cried at the loss of her adored sparkly laces, but she agreed. She hid her head under her blanket and tried not to listen in on the surgery.
There was tugging and scissor noises and then her Dad saying, “It won’t… I think we’re going to have to… you think?” Then more noises and tugging and finally one foot was free! She wiggled her toes in ecstacy and listened to the operation being repeated on the other side.
Joy! Bliss! Toes!
Sally vaulted out of the blanket to hug thank yous and then she saw her Wishing Shoes.
They were in pieces. They were destroyed. Sally hiccupped with shock.
“Sally, honey… [hic!] the shoes were far too tight for us [hic!] to be able to cut [hic!] the laces [hic! hic!] and we had to do this to get them off you [hic!]. We’re sorry, [hic!] honey.”
Sally wept and hiccuped and blorted and wailed as she realised, far too late, that it was her fault. “If I stopped wearing the Wishing Shoes when they got too small they would still be okay, Mumsy!”
There is no happy conclusion to this story, so we must leave Sally there, crying by the tattered sparkly corpses of the Wishing Shoes.
The moral of the story
Most of us suck at endings. We let things drag on for far far longer than would be useful, profitable, or healthy for us.
That unfinished business follows us around like a weight on our neck, or a pair of too-tight shoes: slowing us, inhibiting us, bringing us pain.
So why are we so resistant to endings? To deciding that it’s time to finish, to let it go?
We live in a place that talks endlessly about beginnings, new ventures, startups and initiation… but never talks about the endings. Endings are hidden like they’re shameful, like we failed somehow in not keeping something going for the rest of time.
This applies even to things we KNOW should have an ending. (The countdown on New Years’ Eve doesn’t celebrate the ending of a year, but the beginning of a new one.)
And since no-one talks about endings, we don’t develop the skill to do them gracefully. Instead, we abruptly pull the cord, or we sabotage the work, or we simply… fade away.
It doesn’t have to be like that.
Recently, and with no warning, I closed down a service that had been running for more than a year. The response of the eight people involved? Support, understanding, continued respect, and ideas on how we could work together in the future.
Last year I closed down a course a third of the way through and still kept the good feelings and goodwill of the participants.
I’m getting very very good at graceful endings. And judging by a number of conversations I’ve had recently, that’s a skill that a lot of people wish they had.
I’ve been ruminating about creating a resource about endings.
- How to know when it’s time to end something.
- How to end a service, venture or commitment while keeping your relationships intact.
- How to look after yourself while it’s going on.
And since I am not – generally speaking – mad enough to create things that no-one would buy, I need to hear from you.
Are you interested in a resource about graceful endings? Then please (and ask others to do the same). If I get enough interest, I’ll make it.
Now, how do I end this article?
*ninja vanish*
photo credit: s.thornton
