Moving Right Along

Life Transitions

“Disenchantment, whether it is a minor disappointment, or a major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition in our lives.”
William Bridges

There are several things we can count on in life—taxes, death, and transitions. If we live long enough, we will endure the trials and joys of transitioning from one stage to the next. Think of them as human earthquakes—the ground beneath us rumbles and shakes, and when it's over, nothing looks the same. Transitions are almost never easy even when they are joyful—a new love, a new baby, a new home, a better job. They are cause for celebration, and trepidation. Most transitions feel awkward and uncomfortable. Some happen in a less cymbal-clanging manner—the first hot-flash signaling middle-age, facial hair and cracking voice as first signs of puberty. Sometimes, they come as a wakeful moment in the middle of the night when you know clearly and without a single doubt, “I can't do this anymore.” You understand that you're about to break your world apart, but it has to happen. Like a baby chick that must peck its way out of an egg, it's a life or death decision.

These life-altering changes happen in our collective life as well. They tend to be chaotic—the stock market crash in the 1920's that ushered in the great depression, the moment when the planes flew into the World Trade Center. Those incidents, and many others, changed America forever. The slow and steady movement from agrarian, to industrial, to cyber and service has changed our economy in equally cataclysmic ways. These giant transitions always leave some of us behind and catapult some into the future. They bring about unrest and sometimes even violence.

In the best of all worlds, transitions come one at a time and we move through them smoothly. In most of our lives, however, transitions tend to come in clusters. Adolescence is a good example. We go from being cute, little, carefree children to mini-adults who are no longer cute, little, or carefree. And unfortunately, that adult body does not come imbued with sound judgment or self-confidence, so we make lots of mistakes. For the newly retired, a similar chaotic transition takes place as all the props by which we identified ourselves fall away. No longer employed, no longer parenting, perhaps no longer in the role of wife or husband, son or daughter, we lose our mooring. We aren't as attractive, nor as agile as we once were. We may feel isolated, adrift, even vulnerable, as we realize we have to be more careful with ourselves than we’re accustomed to being. In both cases, however, we also experience a dizzying, terrifying, and totally awsome freedom.

Transitions, whether personal or collective, move in only one direction—forward. There is no going back or undoing; we can only move into our new reality. We can do that with grace or we can go kicking and screaming, At each stage of transition, the energizing spirit is critical. It moves within us, and keeps us from getting stuck. This spirit helps us recognize the transition for what it is, understand the pitfalls and possibilities, and then embrace the change. We can, if we choose, reinvent ourselves over and over in new and exciting ways.

In the Spirit,
Jane