Big change happens within a typical story-arc type pattern. You have a beginning, a middle, and—wait for it—an end. Often, as we examine an arc we can see that it’s actually an arc within a much larger arc.
As I write today, I find myself in one of these arcs of great change. To clearly pinpoint it, I’d say that I am positioned proportionately between the middle and the end of this career change in my life. I can remember the beginning, but I can no longer see it clearly in the rearview mirror; I can see the end, but it’s still a little fuzzy as it sits on the horizon. There is one part of this change I did not see coming and for which I was not prepared: saying goodbye, not to friends, colleagues, responsibilities, and meetings(oh, thank GOD!), but to myself.
In the beginning, there is agitation
There is typically an acute agitation that has been building on top of layers of minor agitations—sometimes spanning a period of months or years—that invokes big change. Once that agitation can no longer be ignored, an idea of change appears and asks to be heard. Seldom do we listen to the whispers and unfortunately we must wait until they become screams—screams that can no longer be easily ignored and dismissed into the recesses of the soul.
When we take hold of the screams and give them their due, we begin to see a light at the end of an all-too-long tunnel. The light gives us hope, the light gives us a reason to keep going. If we’re lucky, we’re willing and able to this turn hope into a plan; if we’re truly listening to ourselves, we’ll understand this is real, it’s normal, it’s okay to continue listening and hear the beauty that is trying to be free—oh, how wondrous, if we would only listen!
When the plan is hatched, it is like a young bird. It’s not yet ready to be turned loose into the world to do what it will. Instead, it must be protected, nurtured, and when ready, released into this great big scary world in which security is not guaranteed, failures are just around each corner, embarrassment and insecurity are sure to make an appearance. Self-doubt and fear will make it impossible to not want to retreat back to the safety and security of the nest.
If we’re brave, we will not retreat. We will lean into vulnerability and see all that she has to teach us. We will begin to accept this new life, we will find happiness, we will bust through the obstacles that get in our way, and ultimately we will shed the skin of who we were and begin to live in the skin of who we are—who we are becoming.
Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end there. Somewhere around this time, something happens. Somewhere around this time of excitement, successes, and transformation, a new feeling emerges—one that we can’t quite put our finger on. One that must be understood or else the consequences will surely manifest in ways that can only be described as torturous.
In this phase of life transformation, the new you has taken shape, it has started to form new habits, made new routines, started doing new things and stopped doing old things. What hasn’t happened though, is a complete letting go. You may have let go of old things, stuff, doodads, time-wasters, bad habits, and the people who drain away your life force, but have you made peace and not only said “goodbye” but allowed for the grieving of the old you?
I find myself currently stuck in this place. I have formed an identity around my career that has served me well for the last fourteen years of my life. When I was at the beginning of my arc I knew that the transition would be hard, I knew that saying goodbye to friends, responsibilities, and challenges that can bring out the best in me would be incredibly tough, but I mustered up the courage and did it anyway. What I didn’t foresee is that it would be asked of me to do more than change who I was, I would have to make my peace, thank him for all that he has given me and the world, let him know that I’m so very grateful for all that he has done, but ultimately I must lay that identity to rest.
I can no longer be him, and he can no longer be me.
This is more than a mental exercise. This is a time of grieving and mourning. A time of reflection and acceptance. A time to eulogize who he was, his contributions to the world, how much I’ll miss him, and then to make the space for grieving. This process will take the shape which will be uniquely mine to experience; this healing will uniquely mine to witness. I will be tempted to rush the healing, I will fool myself into believing I’m ready to return and for the grieving to be over before it truly is.
It is all part of the process. I truly loved the person I am, the person I have been, and the sting of that death isn’t easily put into words. But, I will move forward and eventually time will ease the pain, it will erase the hurt, it will allow this arc to come to a close and the make preparations for the future arcs to emerge.
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Have you let go of the beautiful, fractured, imperfect, and brilliant person you were in order to make space for the person you are becoming?
Please share in the comments below!