I’ve blogged many times about transition, as I feel I am almost always in transition of some sort. Transition versus what? Being in a rut? Ick.
I believe it’s best to stop and breathe, care for ourselves, reflect — but not too long, or we could fall into despair and that is surely the worst rut of all. Nothing fabulous ever happens to people who wallow in sorrow.
“Oh, woe is me.”
“Woe is all of us, motherfucker. Onward!”
The thing about transition is while you may know what ended, you cannot know what’s coming. The end of anything means new beginnings for other things.
Every single time I didn’t get what I wanted, some new wonderful opportunity presented itself. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Better and MORE.
Sure, we should make plans, but the best of ourselves is revealed when we take risks.
You can play devil’s advocate with this theory, but my opinion is immovable, because reflection on my own experiences fills me with the kind of hope I simply cannot ignore.
There’s a special sort of patience required, because new stuff doesn’t come on our own timeline. In the meantime, change can be unsettling and the unknown can be frightening.
If I think about the very best things in my life, the things that bring me the most happiness, most are not things I would have chosen for myself at an earlier time. They appeared as risks I took at exactly the right time.
I imagine life is like Choose Your Own Adventure, but ultimately, there’s a path we can only detour so far from for so long. Some people get clearer maps, better lighting, or smoother roads, but it seems to me there’s always a path. (I don’t care how well you think you know someone, you do not know what their road is really like.)
We’re so self-oriented, we think it’s all about ourselves, but it’s not. At our best, we create, inspire, motivate, help, teach. There is a reason for it all. Yes, we may have made the wrong choice, but new directions are always forthcoming. And the times we felt lost? Turns out, that time was crucial.
Lots of times, we’re lost without knowing it. I mean, people actually say this — “He lost his way.” It’s not always obvious. Before the transition, we feel that incredible dissatisfaction, yet when the end comes, we freak out and hate it. We’re so weird. Again, I say, make that freak-out-hate-it part brief, because after that, it’s time to embrace it.
Embrace change by letting shit GOOOOOOOOOO!
You did not enjoy the drama.
You couldn’t stand the pain.
It was uncomfortable.
You weren’t happy.
You didn’t want that.
It never felt right.
It was never yours.
It did not fulfill you.
This is a really big part of happiness.
Looking back like:
It sure was good, until it wasn’t.
I am glad the suffering is over.
I can focus my attention elsewhere now.
We had some good times.
I learned a lot from that.
What a relief not to deal with that crap anymore.
I make it clear to the universe that I am receptive. There are things I like to do to improve my juju and feel engaged in the process. These things go a long way toward fostering patience and easing anxiety, so I do them all the time, but when I’m in transition, I am more mindful.
- I make it a point to sit in silence. (The answers are all inside you, or they are all 42, I dunno, either way, it helps.) Sometimes when I’m scattered, The Mister will take me for a drive so I can stare out different windows. It’s good. Outside is better when the weather’s ideal.
- I take up new hobbies. Bake to fill an empty house, quilt through insomnia, swim through deployments, volunteer through children leaving home.
- I purge that which is no longer useful. It’s just plain good to free up space. I realize that what is coming, what I want, isn’t material, but it’s a metaphorical clearing, and I believe it matters.
- I make myself more available. Engage in chit chat with strangers. Look for signs, listen for connections. (I’m guessing extroverts don’t need help in this category.)
- Practice gratitude. Daily and often. Move with gratitude, eat with it, drink with it, sleep with it — do it all with gratitude. Look for silver linings and re-frame that shit. “This is the biggest scab I’ve ever had! My body is truly incredible!” Some people can’t even make their own scabs, y’all.
Anyway, I’ve gone all guru Joey on you, and on a Tuesday, but that’s what I wanted to write, and so I did. Thank you for reading.