Years ago I committed to a year-long program centered on helping me become a better man, husband and father.  The structure was straightforward and the commitment was real.  Several other guys and I signed up for a year-long program, complete with reading assignments, memorizations, exercises and a 360 review: my boss and my wife.  This was no book club.  I loved it.  The rigor was significant enough that I couldn't phone it in.  The requirement for honesty was as real as the safety available to stand in the consequence of honesty.  I marked my month around our meeting, ensuring readiness and preparing my bride that I would ask really uncomfortable questions after.  It was great.

At the end of our year, we marked time with a small ceremony, which still stands as one of the keystone events of my life. 

The program ended, yet it felt odd to go through such intensity with others, simply to grab a t-shirt on the way to the tastee freeze for a dip cone on the way home, so as a collective, we had a long discussion about what we wanted to do next: go our separate ways? re-up for another year? chart our own course? 

With great sincerity one of our lot questioned, 'wait, I thought we were done.  There's no more books to read.'  Convocation.

Peer pressure got to him, so we all agreed to keep our routine for another year. Commencement.

A few months in, he pulled us aside and said that he'd only signed up for a year and was done. Convocation.

We pressed on without him. Commencement.

For some time anyway. Convocation.

Each of us had to decide: was the end of our formal program the end of our work or had we completed training and were now ready to do the work on our own?

Was our ceremony the end or the beginning?  Was that day a 'convocation' or a 'commencement'?

'Convocation' comes from Latin 'convocare'  meaning 'with voice' or 'to speak.' The context suggests a gathering for the purposes of discussion, often in religious or formal settings.

'Commencement' derives from the French 'comencier' meaning 'to begin, to start.'  The image here is that at commencement, students step into the privileges of being a graduate of a program or a school: You may commence calling me 'Doctor.'

We must decide: are we stepping out of or into the next phase?  Are we stepping out of golf weekends with college buddies or are we stepping into life with a bride?  Are we stepping out of responsibilities or into restoration?  Are we stepping out of a program or into a life of relationship? 

Years removed, the answer of each man in my group is clear.  Some haven't read a book since our last 'assignment.'  Others saw the program as training ground and have moved on to 'graduate school.'

James Clear notes that each decision we make is a vote for the kind of person we want to become.  We must choose: convocare or comencier.