It all happens over time. Yet reflecting back seems as though it flies. The up the down, we grow through it.

Not the tools but the people. Not the office but the minds. Not the dress but the confidence.

The excitement. The enthusiasm. The joy. It’s unmatched.

Everyday the same man could be seen sitting by a cheerful stream. He would point to the fish to tell them which way to go. They barely acknowledged him. One day, the man wasn’t there. And the fish just kept swimming.

The start of something new. The end of what was. Each beginning starts with an end.