Every once in a while life hits us with some sort of change in circumstances: we lose a job, a relationship ends or one begins, our financial situation takes a sudden change, we experience a health crisis, or someone close to us dies and we realize how short life is. There are lots of ways that the ground beneath our feet can suddenly shift. It throws us for a loop. We realize that in some way, we’re not who we were just yesterday. Something has changed about the way we relate to life, about how we see ourselves. This happens whether we view the change as positive or negative. This happened for a lot of people during the pandemic.
When it happens we’re usually filled with a lot of different emotions. Sometimes and for some people, the shift is exciting. It brings a sense of adventure and freshness. Other times and for other people, the shift causes them to feel unmoored, adrift, confused, even scared. I have a tendency to belong in this second group. When a major change happens in my life, my well-worn habits grounded in fear and worry ask a lot of questions; questions I don’t yet have the answers to. It feels like a part of me has gone, died, faded into oblivion and a new identity or way of seeing myself has yet to emerge. That new way always does emerge, but during the transition I feel unsure and a little lost.
It happened to me recently.
Something in my life changed and I realized life would no longer be the same. I felt a bit confused, worried, overwhelmed. I had trouble sleeping. Fortunately I had the insight to see what was happening. I could see I was experiencing a kind of transformation; one that had been thrust upon me. And though that insight didn’t reduce the strength of what I was feeling, it did give me a little perspective. I was able to allow all the confusion, worry, and overwhelm to have the space they needed AND know that these feelings would eventually pass. That I would find a new relationship to life and regain my footing but in a new way, one that wasn’t like the old, but that reflected the new me. I’m not quite there yet this time ‘round, but I can tell my footing is returning.
That’s how transformation usually happens. When the dam breaks, we’re set adrift. But over time, a new path is charted, a new us appears, and we’re moving forward again.
I just wanted to share that today, hoping maybe it will help someone else experiencing a similar shift.
If you’re wanting a little help regaining your footing, reach out. I’m here and I get it.
© Paul Boehnke, 2023. All rights reserved.