Every New Beginning

by Billie Baldwin, DSW, LCSW-C, LICSW I would never consider the 1990s Semisonic ballad “Closing Time” (a song about a bar closing) to be a philosophical treatise on new beginnings. But, it is the place I first heard the statement, “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end,” which is a quote often attributed to Lucius Seneca, the Roman philosopher. (Who knows if he said it or not – we’ll just go with it.)

The older I get, the more convinced I am that it’s true. We tend to think of starting over as something we choose. We decide to pursue a new career, move to a new city, begin a new relationship, or finally take that step we’ve been talking about for years. Those fresh starts feel exciting because they are ours. But, many of life’s new beginnings are not voluntary. Organizations change. Leaders come and go. Families grow or shrink. Friends move on or feelings change. Illnesses appear out of nowhere. Finances fluctuate. Life throws us curveballs we never asked for. Sometimes the ending arrives before we had time to prepare for the beginning. No matter when you find yourself reading this, chances are you are in the middle of some kind of transition. Maybe it’s large and obvious. Maybe it’s more subtle. Either way, transitions have a way of making us feel like beginners again. And if we’re honest. New beginnings are hard. Starting over is scary. Uncertainty is the biggest part of change that most people fear. When our lives are predictable, it feels good. Big (and little) changes can make us feel unsettled, nervous. Human beings crave predictability. Our brains are constantly trying to answer the question: Am I safe? Familiarity helps us answer yes to that question. When that familiarity changes, our brains notice. Even positive changes can make us feel anxious. We wonder if we will fit in, if we will measure up, if we are making the right decisions. We can be nervous long before anything has actually gone wrong!

Staring over is frustrating. It’s hard to feel like yourself when everything around you suddenly feels unfamiliar. Maybe you’ve started a new job. Maybe you’ve moved to a different town where no one knows you. Maybe you’ve become a parent, an empty nester, widowed, a caregiver, or someone living with a diagnosis you never expected. Sometimes life changes so much that even you aren’t entirely sure who you are anymore.

Relationships have to be rebuilt. The shortcuts you’ve developed disappear. The inside jokes no longer make sense. Your reputation resets.

It’s a strange feeling to become anonymous in a place—or season of life—where you once felt completely known.

Then again...there is a bright side.

Fresh starts have a funny way of giving us permission to leave behind the things that never fit us very well in the first place.

No one knows you used to argue with that one coworker. They don’t remember the awkward meeting from three years ago. Your new neighbors have no idea you once accidentally killed every houseplant you owned. Your new gym doesn’t know you quit after two weeks the last three times you joined. And no one knows you occasionally leave your coffee mug in the break room for an embarrassingly long time or that you may have cut someone off in the parking garage once or twice.

The slate is never completely blank—we carry our experiences with us—but it is often cleaner than we think. And sometimes that is exactly the gift we need.

I’ll take the win. (Wink.)

Starting over is an opportunity. We can build a new environment and make it better. How do we move through this time of uncertainty successfully? There is only one way – together.

Starting over gives us the opportunity to practice GRACE. If you’ve ever talked with me, you know I am a fan of grace. What is grace, exactly? I am going to combine a few definitions to help you understand what I mean. Grace is free and unmerited favor and goodwill given. It is a compassionate feeling toward someone’s humanness – even your own. It is giving people the benefit of the doubt. Does it absolve responsibility to meet obligations? No. Does it imply we are magical and can forget all about how we have been wronged? No. Does it help create a better life? Emphatically, yes! Our brains are wired to be social, and only connection and support provide protection against the uncertainty of change. When we are under stress and duress the worst thing we can be is alone. Supportive, nurturing, and empathetic relationships are essential to overcoming grief, loss, and change.

Even if you are a “loner,” supportive relationships change your brain and help you regulate your emotions.

Think about your life for a moment. Think about what it feels like today.

Now think of one person—any person—who consistently makes you feel supported. Maybe it’s your spouse, your best friend, your sister, your neighbor, a coworker, or someone who simply has a way of making you feel seen. Imagine spending a little more time with that person this week.

What does that feel like?

Do you feel calmer? Safer? More hopeful? More like yourself?

My guess is yes.

That’s the power of connection. We don’t just enjoy supportive relationships—they actually help regulate our nervous systems. They remind us that we don’t have to navigate uncertainty alone. This is one of the reasons therapy can be so powerful. While good therapy teaches skills and offers perspective, healing also happens through the experience of a safe, consistent relationship. Sometimes what changes us isn’t advice; it’s finally having a place where we don’t have to navigate life’s transitions alone. We can’t control what happens next. We can’t control every change life brings or every decision other people make. But we can control how we show up. We can decide whether we’re contributors to someone else’s stress or contributors to their sense of safety. And I would argue that may be one of the most important choices we make.

Life has a way of putting us on steep learning curves—sometimes by choice, sometimes by

circumstance. During those seasons, I think of grace, empathy, and kindness as our guardrails. They won’t prevent every stumble, but they will keep us from drifting too far off course. And if we can offer those gifts to one another along the way, perhaps we will discover that starting over isn’t nearly as lonely as we imagined.