Begin Again . . . .

There was an old man named Michael Finnegan,
He grew whiskers on his chin again.
He shaved them off but they grew in again.
Poor old Michael Finnegan.  Begin again.

There was an old man named Michael Finnegan,
Ate all his dinner from a tin again.
When it was all done he'd fill it up again.
Poor old Michael Finnegan.  Begin again.
                                         From a Children's Song

I remember my grandfather singing the first verse of this song to me when I was watching him shave.  I asked him why he shaved every single day.  The song was his reply.  He rarely sang, so just hearing his gravely voice try to create a tune was a hysterical joke to me.  When I begged him to sing it again, he refused and sent me to my grandmother to have her sing it to me.  She complied and sang not just one, but several verses to the song.  I was delighted to learn a new song with such a catchy tune and wonderful rhyming phrases.  Grandma and I even made up some of our own verses about cooking, cleaning, sleeping. . . . each and every verse ending with  begin again.

It wasn't until I was an adult singing bits of the orginal song and making up new verses with my children that the profundity of the simple song hit me.  Begin again.  Every verse tells us to begin again.  It doesn't say one more time, or number how many times, it simply reminds us to begin again.  And again, begin again.

Yesterday this song came to mind as I had a conversation with a young man about an upcoming project we're working on together.  He was so enthusiastic - for me.  I on the other hand, I was thinking of Michael Finnegan.  Exactly how many times can I, can anyone, begin again?  Where can I find a similar energy of my own to tap into to meet this young man where he is?  When does one stop beginning again?  It didn't take me long to catch up with his enthsuiasm.  Michalel Finnegan reminded me to begin again.  And again.  

As I ponder when to stop beginning again, I know the answer to that.  I will no longer begin again the moment I draw my last breath.  For now, I have a lot of "things" to beginning again . . . . getting up everyday, hugging my family every opportunity I have, finding joy and meaning in the work I do, loving the opportunities and challenges that each day brings, simply-waking each day.

May you find joy in all that you begin again today.

The was an old man named Michael Finnegan,
He slept each night and woke each morn again.
Worked for justice, peace, and love within.
That lucky old Michael Finnegan.  Begin again.
                                                         My Latest Verse