Readings

For Renewal

Nothing has to be recovered before you can start. There is no debt, because nobody was counting.

Theme
renewal
Occasion
On resuming a practice, a project, or a life that stopped

We stopped.

Some of us stopped for reasons, and some for none we can find.

Nothing accrued in the interval.

There is no arrears to clear before we may begin.

Let the old plan be examined before it is resumed;

it may have been built for a person we are no longer.

Let us begin smaller than pride suggests.

Let us begin on an ordinary day, without waiting for a better one.

What was learned in stopping is also knowledge.

We begin again, at the size we can hold.

Responsive form

For groups. One voice reads the left column; everyone answers with the right.
Leader All
We stopped. Nothing accrued in the interval.
Let us begin smaller than pride suggests. Let us begin on an ordinary day.
What was learned in stopping is also knowledge.

When to use it

When you are picking something up after putting it down: a practice, a piece of work, a relationship, an exercise routine, a project abandoned for reasons that are now hard to reconstruct.

It suits the first week of anything, and it suits the eleventh attempt at the same thing rather better.

What it asks

It asks first that the interval be treated as neutral. There is a strong reflex to arrive back at an abandoned thing owing something — days missed, chapters unread, messages unanswered. In almost every case this debt is invented. Nothing was accumulating. The reading says so directly, because saying it once out loud is more effective than deciding it privately.

It asks that the old plan be inspected before it is resumed. This is the practical heart of the reading. A plan that was abandoned is evidence about a mismatch between the plan and a life. Reinstating it unchanged is how people end up failing at the same thing on a schedule.

It asks for a smaller beginning than seems dignified. Ambition at the restart is a reliable predictor of a second collapse.

And it asks for an ordinary day. Waiting for a Monday, a birthday, a new year, or a moment of feeling ready is a way of not starting that presents itself as preparation.

What it does not claim

It does not claim that stopping was a failure requiring redemption. Sometimes stopping was correct, and the honest outcome of this reading is occasionally the decision not to resume at all.

It does not claim that the fallow period was secretly productive. Sometimes nothing was happening. Not every difficult stretch contains a lesson, and the insistence that it must is one of the less kind things we do to each other.

It does not promise that this attempt will hold. It might not. That is not an argument against making it.

How to read it

Once, quietly, before doing the first small thing rather than instead of it.

If you are reading it in a group — a study circle, a shared project starting again after a long gap — the responsive form allows everyone to say the middle lines, which are the ones people find hardest to grant themselves.

A note on the last line: “at the size we can hold” is meant literally. Choose the version of the thing that fits your current week, not the version that fits the week you wish you had.

Questions to sit with

  • What was the plan actually for, and does that person still exist?
  • What did the fallow period teach me that continuing would not have?