The Beauty of the In-Between: Finding Meaning After Endings
- Sylvia

- Sep 4
- 3 min read
There’s a particular tenderness in endings. The last golden sunset of summer, the closing words of a book that has carried us through sleepless nights, the quiet silence after a relationship ends. These moments don’t feel quite like the past or the future. They are the in-between—the threshold where something familiar has just slipped away, and the next thing hasn’t yet fully arrived.
We often rush through this space. After the end of summer holidays, we’re quick to dive into school or work routines. After a breakup, we try to fill the void immediately. After finishing a book, we might start another, hungry to avoid the ache of absence. But what if this pause, this liminal space, is not an inconvenience but a gift?
Introduction
There’s a hush that lingers right after something ends. The laughter fades when the last beach day of summer is over. The final page of a novel leaves us both satisfied and a little hollow. A relationship concludes, and suddenly there’s a silence where conversation once lived. These are not beginnings yet, nor are they fully endings. They are the in-between spaces—often overlooked, often uncomfortable, yet deeply alive with meaning.

The Sacred Pause
Every ending leaves behind a quiet pocket of possibility. Instead of hurrying past it, we can choose to honor it. Just as the earth needs winter to rest before spring, we, too, need time to process, reflect, and simply be.
After summer, take a few moments to savor the memories. What did you discover about yourself during those long days of light?
After a relationship ends, allow space for grief and gratitude—for what was, and for what it revealed about what you truly need.
After finishing a book, sit with its final impression. Let it echo before you reach for another story.
Leaning Into Uncertainty
The in-between often feels uncomfortable because it is uncertain. We don’t yet know what’s next, and that not-knowing can stir anxiety. But uncertainty is also where creativity and transformation live. It is the pause between the exhale and the inhale, the fertile soil before the first shoots break ground.
Instead of resisting, we can ask: What wants to emerge here? What am I being invited to learn in this pause?
Rituals for the Threshold
Welcoming the space between endings and beginnings can become a practice. Here are a few gentle ways:
Journaling: Write a farewell letter—to summer, to a chapter of your life, to a character from a book. Naming what has ended helps you release it. Also see our earlier blog post about journaling.
Slowing down: Take walks without rushing, listen to music that mirrors your mood, or let yourself do nothing for a while.
Symbolic acts: Light a candle to honor the ending, blow it out with intention, and then relight a new one when you feel ready for the new.
A Season of Becoming
As summer gives way to autumn, nature reminds us that endings are never final—they are transformations. Leaves fall not to signal death, but to make way for rest, renewal, and future bloom. So too in our lives: the closing of one chapter creates the opening for another.
The invitation is not to rush across the threshold, but to stand in it, breathe in its quiet air, and welcome the stillness. Because the space between an ending and a new beginning is not empty—it is full of becoming. Let us be kind and gentle with ourselves in these gifted moments.
What transformation are you going through right now? If you feel like, share your experience in the comments below. We love to hear from you.


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