Dear Friends and Colleagues,
I hope this month’s newsletter finds you readying for the joy
of summer. Even amidst difficult economic and political times we
can count on the earth to devote itself to flowering. What a
lovely place to be while in the throes of transition – on the lap
of a green and blossoming earth.
I chose the theme of how to survive and manage transition for
this month’s newsletter as it is the question that it is most
alive for me at the moment. With the loss of one of my dearest
friends in early March, the shock has begun to wear off and the
new reality is slowly working its way into my experience. Although
I am a babe in the woods in the experience of my grief, some of
the insights I have gleaned in these early stages seem worth
sharing as they relate to any and all transitions - unemployment,
a recent move, leaving or entering a relationship, a downturn in
business, children leaving the nest. What all these circumstances
have in common is that we are treading new ground with little
direction – having to let go of a life we knew for a life that is
not yet fashioned.
In particular, there are strong parallels between the process
of grieving the loss of a loved one with the sudden loss of
employment. Stages of shock, anger, denial, and bargaining often
precede the acceptance of one’s loss. Unfortunately, many assume
that people will be ready for new employment long before they have
actually grieved the loss of their last job. With the loss of
employment, a person may not only be adjusting to loss of income,
but with the loss of identity, of a peer group, of belonging to a
company or a field. Can you imagine suggesting setting up a blind
date to a person who is burying their mate? We would never be so
insensitive to a person’s need to grieve and let go of the person
they loved before expecting them to be able to imagine a new
beginning. Indeed, not all individuals who are unemployed are
experiencing “grief”, but we need to be aware of and sensitive to
those who are.
Regardless of the transition(s) we find ourselves in and are
supporting other people through, we each must make our way from a
path that seemed straight and familiar to a reality that forms a
question mark. Forgive me this self-indulgence, for I write the
following seven suggestions not so much as “lessons learned”, but
as signposts to look towards as I continue my journey. May they
serve as such for you, fellow travelers, as well as to the people
you serve!
1. Without the aid of an actual map, develop an inner sense of
direction.
Part of what characterizes transition is the distinct lack of
direction on a road with no clear cut path. Naturally, we hope for
signs that would guide us through the process, but in the end,
each of us must find our own way. But what if we focused not so
much on where the road is leading as to the manner in which we are
traveling? However harried, difficult, or painful, what if we had
a way of traveling that was based in qualities of character that
colored the road as powerfully as flowers at our feet? Based in
love, honor or a steadfast purposefulness, we can imbue the
journey of transition with something beautiful. In my own case, I
carry the deep intent of experiencing this dark night in a way
that honors the love and belief that my friend had in me. In this
way my grief is no just a “letting go”, but a “holding to”
something precious.
2. Gain confidence by taking control in small things.
In the midst of wrestling for control of difficult situations
while in transition, we can gain a foothold by making progress
toward smaller goals. Spring cleaning, gardening, writing a letter
a day, exercising, working on a painting or refinishing an old
chair – deliberately investing time in activities that bring their
own sense of accomplishment and worth is a great way to survive
and manage the rocky road of transition. Even when I want to
retreat to the bedroom in mid-afternoon, I put on my tennis shoes
and head to the gym. It is not just the physical activity that
feels good, but the sense of keeping a commitment to my health and
well-being. Perhaps as the muscles in my arms and legs get
stronger, so does my confidence, my faith and my hope for the
future.
3. Employ transition as a time for asking new questions.
Crises refine life. Loss and change sharpen our view of the
world and our place in it. They help us to discover who we are.
What clarifies our values more quickly than transition? It causes
us to reexamine our goals, our desires and the ways in which we
are living our lives. In transition, we find our masks are
removed, our social veneer is worn thin, and our willingness to
simply fit in is replaced with a more solid sense of self.
Depending on the questions we ask, transition can represent life
reaching forward rather than a reaching backward. It requires true
vigilance, however, to be asking wholesome questions that are
worthy of our attention. I can sit in the query, “How could this
possibly have happened?” and consequently spend my day in the
shadow of despair. Changing the question to, “How will this
profound sense of loss soften my heart rather than harden it?”
keeps me poised towards the light. We need to allow transition to
be the silent educator by allowing t he deeper questions to
emerge, not just the questions motivated by our emotions in the
moment.
4. Devote time for that which soothes and sustains you.
Whatever soothes us and provides us with pleasure or inner
sustenance should be incorporated into our lives during
transition. Watching trains, feeding birds, listening to
particular music, lighting candles – bringing into our lives that
which gives us solace is a way of taking care of ourselves. I have
a vase of white peonies that I have carried from room to room for
the past three days, their beauty serving as a reminder of the
world I love and will rejoin when I am ready. Similarly, I always
gave job seekers a “Food for the Soul” assignment which I
considered just as important as their employment-related tasks
knowing that if the spirit is attended to first, there will be a
fresh vitality with which to approach other duties of the day.
5. Practice patience with the process!
Deeply ingrained within our culture is the idea that at every
turn of the road we ought to simply take a stand and pick a lane!
The ability to embrace mystery, to stand bravely in face of the
unknown and to encourage the unfolding of a process that we are
not in control of is alien to our way of living. But grief has
given me a crash course in the practice of patience. It is clear
that I am not the one running this show and that is true in the
case of most transitions. What I am learning is that patience is
not passive: to the contrary, it is active, concentrated strength.
By forcing ourselves to be patient, we are doing something - we
are exhibiting the strength it takes to get through a challenging
and changing time. “Faith”, my selection for this issue’s Poem of
the Month by David Whyte, is a gorgeous ode to the kind of
patience that life asks of us in the midst of transition - like
the moon having faith in its own phases.
6. Accept transition as a time for “new understanding”.
Transition feels like a time of infertility and unfruitfulness.
But let us not be fooled … it is often a time of the greatest
conception. How many times have we heard it said from artisans of
all types that some of their greatest works came out a dark night
of the soul? At all times something in us is trying to be born.
What we are experiencing as “emptiness” may in fact bring a
“fullness” in ways we cannot yet imagine. Confusion and clarity
can live in the same house, joy and pain can abide under the same
roof. How do we embrace the “unknowing time” and reframe it as a
waiting to know something “new” time?
7. Connect with people in like circumstances!
I will be the first to admit that when it comes to my own
healing, I have not had much faith. I do not have a vision of
myself feeling whole again or at peace with regard to my friend’s
untimely death. But when I attended a support group meeting with
other people who had lost a loved one in a similar way, something
wonderful happened. I found that I could readily envision their
healing and wholeness. I had all the courage, hope and belief for
everyone else in the room and, oddly, it gave me hope for myself.
I found it true as a job club leader too. People could see one
another’s possibilities much more clearly than they could see
their own. We humans need each other – especially in difficult
times. Reaching out and supporting other people and allowing
people to support us is essential to surviving and managing
transition!
Finally, it would behoove us to remember that while life is a
series of journeys, it is a cumulative journey. We don’t really
leave anything behind because we carry with us all of the gifts,
treasure (and wounds) from prior experiences. The future
represents a series of days in which there is ample opportunity to
give and receive, to love and be loved, to heal and be healed, to
grow and to change with the grace of the greening earth. Indeed
there are times in our lives when it feels as if we are carried by
winged feet. Transition is not one of those times. May these
reflections shared and the suggestions for putting them into
practice serve as little arrows on the road as our hearts seek the
strength to carry our feet ... at least until they grow new wings.
Wishing you peace and patience in times of transition,
Denise
© Denise Bissonnette, June 2003
About Denise...
