Transitions are a huge part of the work that I do—
gracefully for others,
for the most part,
and with general and annoying difficulty for myself.
While enclosed in my latest one, I remembered why.
This feeling:

The grace of remembering and direct experience is I can better appreciate the depth of work and the variety of transitions and their elements in the most sensitive of ways.
I can and will walk with you.
One of the things I like most about the nature of change is also one of the aspects I detest:
We are all constantly in a state of change.
To say this, it feels like a platitude and deeply out of reach.
We live a world steeped in materialism.
You look permanent to me.
I look permanent to you.
Right?
This may be why any major transition is so incessantly difficult.
This is one reason, at least.
But in the spirit of materialism, I went to the material first.
I looked to etymology.
I prefer to briefly go back before I attempt the non-linear expression of upward and spiraling motion.
Transition comes from the Latin transitionem for "a going across." Apparently, around the 1550s it became more about
the general sense of change, a passage from one condition or action to another.
Around then, it looks like, perhaps we agreed that time is linear and has linear qualities:
Start, middle, end.
This reminded me of another reason transitions feel agonizing.
We have to again find our rhythm, cycles, and relationship beyond a timekeeper that solely cares for our experience from start-to-end.
There is some truth to this in our experience. We do need to validate and acknowledge ourselves and others that this change is happening.
We know that when we’re in it.
But it could be higher on the ease-scale if we could adapt transition to our cyclical realities.
It's not that we just "go across."
Instead we have to look at human cycles, the ones that reach in all directions and multitudes across our lives:
Across, back, forward, up, down, and in.
This is another reminder to me—and to any of us—who may be detached from our human cycles.
So, why is this list intentionally incomplete?
Because it can't reach the endless possibilities of insights that will come from a transition I or you travel through.
Because it's not specific to the type of transition.
Because these are a handful of my insights.
Because we need to leave room for you.
I'm sharing because there is universality and fullness to what an incomplete list represents.
And they may confirm, deny, clarify, and inspire yours.
The mentioned list:
You won't perish the earth if you slow down. It's quite the opposite, actually, and perhap, you'll align.
What may feel like flailing around isn't without its purpose. Further, your relationship to puttering around the kitchen, office, coffee shop, your mind, and/or your commute will change. Fight it, resist it, sure, but you're remembering something fundamental about creativity and life.
You might want something totally different than your parents, family, partner, friends, children, and all of the daily cultural/social directions provided to you—implicitly, explicitly, or both. And, eeeek, you might not even know what those different things are. If so, re-read the above bullet.
To that point, you may not really know yourself as well as you thought. An oops, with relief, you infinite being, you.
You may have to reflect and not act, but you still need to be in motion. It's a balance. A fuzzy through line may emerge.
You might react in ways you wouldn't have imagined before. You may ask, is life actually this messy? Has it always been this way?
Your relationship to the imposter archetype may change, and you may see more of who you are in the process. This archetype, among others, will recess in the background as you realize you cannot live in any other way than what is true and authentic to you. Perhaps then the words true and authentic may regain their energy, substance, and footing in your life.
You might have regrets, shame, and perhaps guilt. You can then separate these into reliable buckets.
You might not like/love/enjoy certain aspects of the new selves you meet. Your old selves may have something to say, too.
You might have made commitments that no longer work. You might find that your first commitment needs to deeply be to yourself—whoever that person is these days—and these commitments may live in a room you don't go into often and never dust. You may have to dust, unearth, remember, revise, and integrate.
Your relationship with alone/lonely may change. A distinction may emerge and take root.
To that point, you may find yourself in the depths, but they won't be hell in the way you've envisioned or were taught. These depths may be unfriendly, unkind, and challenging, but simultaneously, a deep knowing will emerge as you travel around and through.
To the above point, you might need support and help. There is a range of healing options available to you.
Feel into trust, love, and support.
Find trusted others to help you to navigate where your ideals haven't translated to reality.
And for now, as we face the discomfort of intentional incompleteness together, there are a million roads back to heaven, back to you.
I don't know who first said this (and if you do, please tell me), but I carry the energy of this statement with me these days.
If this resonated for you and perhaps you enjoyed this, I’d love to hear from you or please consider sharing this publication.
Thanks for reading.
With love,
Sara
thank you so much for this list! i was in here searching for the right list of what “to do” - feels like i pulled a tarot card here….
This resonates a lot Sara! Sometimes an urge to do things differently comes; a newly born interest or a feeling of rejection towards something we’ve always done.
If we are gentle with it and with ourselves we give ourselves the room to transform. Like you said, we are always transforming. The only constant is change!
Beautiful post :)