Mindful Transitions
“There was no sudden, striking, and emotional transition. Like the warming of a room or the coming of daylight. When you first notice them they have already been going on for some time.”
Opening up to transitions…
There are moments in our lives when we notice that things have changed...and moments when we notice that we, ourselves, have changed amidst those "things." Often, a gradual shifting has been taking place for some time before the difference becomes stark enough to enter our consciousness. This isn’t always the case, and sometimes transitions are abrupt and jarring, but more often they happen slowly, over time.
Psychotherapist Sheryl Paul refers to transitions as "breaking and renewal points,” alluding to the opportunities that transitions bring for newness. Transitory experiences are opportunities for continuation (more of the same) or renovation (something new and different) and offer us the chance to evaluate our current state and make a conscious choice about how we wish to continue on.
What we choose to focus on as we transition...from married to divorced, from childless to mother...impacts our experience of the next role or state of being. Transitions are choice-points, offerings from the universe that present an option for healing and transformation or for remaining stagnant and wounded.
“I cannot take you with me. We can only carry people forward with us who can help us to improve, nurture us to grow, and give us wings to change.”
Sitting with difficult feelings…
When I got divorced years ago, I wrote and meditated on this statement: “I cannot take you with me. We can only carry people forward with us who can help us to improve, nurture us to grow, and give us wings to change.” Holding on to this helped me to set new boundaries, to be clear that my message was “you can’t come.” This was and, in many ways, is still a painful reality for me. Holding on to the hope of meeting at a cafe and shooting the shit kept me trapped in fiction. What I could do, however, was to keep that relationship in its rightful place, the past, and honor it there.
This experience taught me that I must open up to both the opportunity and the pain that is present in every transition. There is always a breaking in a transition. Shutting ourselves off from the spillage that is inevitable as a result of this breaking does not make the transition easier, but rather prolongs the experience of grief. It is permissible to cry about the loss of familiarity when a partnership ends. It is to be alive to weep about inhabiting the role of mother and the loss of independence that comes with it. It is right and good to feel a sense of “giving up” something even though a happy unit of 2 will soon become 3. It is bold to notice the shakiness we feel as we are phasing out of one job and heading into another. American Buddhist Pema Chodron reminds us that “the off-center, in-between state is an ideal situation, a situation in which we don’t get caught and we can open our hearts and minds beyond limits. It’s a very tender, non-aggressive, open-ended state of affairs."
Taking time and space…
Navigating transitions requires space and time. We may find ourselves craving silence or darkness, pulling away from the familiar, or seeking out new wisdom in unexpected places. A season of loneliness and isolation is required in order for a caterpillar to develop its wings. We need the space in order to go deeper into ourselves and continue on our never ending journey of becoming.
“A season of loneliness and isolation is required in order for a caterpillar to develop its wings.”
What would it be like if we gave ourselves this space? There is irony in the fact that the difficult times we fear might ruin us are the very ones that can open us up, carve us out, and create the fertile space that allows us to blossom into who we were meant to be. We are allowed to be afraid of the dark. Instead of running from it, we may benefit from asking ourselves: whose hand do I want to hold as I venture into the unknown?
We are all in transition. We are all becoming. At Spoke, we welcome you just as you are, in all your uncertainty, mess, and beauty. Join us. Find your circle.
Lia Love Avellino
With the middle name “Love,” Lia was destined to seek connection. She has done so in a variety of professional capacities, including as a licensed social worker, published sex and relationships author, and a facilitator and community organizer implementing population-based interventions.
For the past several years, Lia has been on a mission to bring the science and ethos of therapy outside of the clinical setting. Using social justice and experiential learning frameworks, Lia facilitates a group process that gives people the space to develop deeper connections to themselves and others.
Lia is the Director of Head and Heart at The Well, a science-backed ecosystem for wellness in the heart of NYC and a therapist specializing in modern love and gender- and sexuality-based traumas at Rennicke & Associates. Lia writes content for a variety of publications, including Glamour, BestLife and The American Journal of Sexuality Education.
