Transitions. The concept of change can be terrifying for many of us. Sometimes change is forced upon us. Without any choice at all in the matter, we’re left to cope. That’s happened to me more than once, and it’s hard. The hardest.
Sometimes we choose change. That can happen because we have no alternative: the other choice is worse. Or we can freely choose it.
No matter what the origin of change, it’s always hard. Our standard patterns of life are disrupted and we must create new ones. At first, we’re awkward in these new ways, like hiking along unfamiliar terrain. But then we see the patterns, build up muscles and it becomes easier in time.
Time. We don’t want to wish it away, but the passage of time is healing. It can give us perspective on what came before, a way of looking at things that’s impossible when you’re in the midst of it.
This is such an incredible and exciting time in my life, even with all the unknowns ahead. I’m not going to kid you–embracing the many transitions I’m facing with open arms is not as easy as hugging a friend.
Of course, if you look at my life, you’d think change was an old and good friend of mine. But no. Each time it appears, it’s a new acquaintance, whose significance is yet to be proven.
I’ve freely chosen to leave my more than four-year relationship, a choice made because we had exhausted all the alternatives. So while freely chosen, there were no other happy options. Even so, I honor the many wonderful gifts it brought me and the lessons I am still learning from it. Love is a powerful thing, but it is not all-powerful.
I’ve freely chosen to transition my work. It’s freed me to love my consulting work more now than I did last year. And I marvel at the many opportunities that have begun to open up for the new venture. Yesterday, my partner and I made the decision to jettison the marketing portion of our business even before it started and to focus on the women’s empowerment workshops we are both passionate about. It was a scary decision but one we were clearly led to, and the right one.
I am choosing to remain calm and centered amidst a financial firestorm in my life. Faith and trust are new companions. I’m just starting to get to know them. I hope they’ll become good friends.
I’ve restarted my life a number of times for all sorts of reasons. So from that standpoint, I must be a gambler. Yet, when I used to spend weeks at a time in Las Vegas for my Silicon Valley job, I never gambled, always preferring to shop. I’m very familiar with ALL the shops and malls on the Strip because it just seemed to me that I should have something tangible for my money. Yes, tangible. Again.
I’ve freely chosen to spend time exploring a big intangible these past months, one that will be tangible soon. It’s a bit anxiety-producing, so I’ve spent a whole lot of time at the gym working out those nerves, and have prayed and meditated. And I’ve written.
Even with all of that, I am in the happiest place of my life. I see so many wonderful opportunities ahead. Doors I had never anticipated are opening. Behind them could be incredible gifts. Or difficulty and pain.
I can be more than a little neurotic about this stuff. I really don’t want to go too far down an unknown, but happy road for fear of jinxing it. Silly, isn’t it? It’s like feeling anticipatory pain. The “what if” analysis.
I was watching televangelist Joyce Meyer on TV at the gym yesterday morning, crack of dawn. She was talking about fear of pain, and how it keeps us from making the most of our lives.
“I’m afraid it’s going to hurt,” people say.
“And if it does, you’ll heal, like the rest of us,” she responds.
Yes. We’ll heal. So why not embrace the day and forget the possibility of pain? There’ll be time enough to deal with it if it happens.
And that’s “if,” not when.
One of my t-shirts has a glass of water on it that’s filled to the halfway mark. It says “Half Full.”
I’m in my happy place right now. I’ve chosen to stay here a while.
Hope you can do the same.