
Navigating Transition
“Maybe this intermediate season is the destination meant for us all along…”
As I write this letter, the birds are chirping and a breeze is moving through the trees. Spring has fully unfolded upon the fertile earth, and we are slowly creeping into warmer, lingering days. I find myself impatient for the ripeness of summer, and as life often goes, I also find myself at a point in my business that is beckoning me to slow down… to ground into the in-between. With this internal struggle between impatience and presence, I've been thinking a lot about transition. How rarely we dig into our transitions in life, instead often pushing ahead until we've “arrived”… completed the move, welcomed our baby, found our lasting relationship, become successful in our career, feel good in our bodies, take the time off… the list goes on.
But how do we navigate our transitions? The expanses of time in-between… when we don't always feel good, or settled, or right?
Navigating an extremely difficult breakup last year, the greatest gift (and also my largest initiation) was the transition. Amidst the murky darkness, glimmers of dancing light came through at a time I least expected. For once, I accepted that I was in a rock bottom. And I was open… open to whatever the universe had in store during a very painful and unknown liminal space. I tried to be present even in the excruciating discomfort of it all, and I did my best to accept with full awareness that this season too, was a necessary and important part of life.
In past liminal spaces, this certainly hasn't always been the case. I've often found myself wishing time away and grasping for an imaginary fast forward button, wanting so badly to skip ahead to the safe harbors of “arrival”, rather than sink into the tumultuous seas of transition. But through this growing experience of changing my relationship with transition and redefining its significance, I found that what once would have felt like an intermission on my life path became not only an integral part of the story… but the main act… changing the course of everything to come after.
It began by noticing, and accepting, the unexpected season of transition I found myself in. I had long held a dream of gaining my yoga teacher certification to better understand yoga philosophy, alignment, and breath. Having practiced yoga for many years, it was one of those goals that I held onto as a “one day I'll ______”. When I made the decision to be radically present with my heartbreak, at a time where one door closed and the way forward had seemingly not yet opened, an unexpected gift appeared on my path… a 200 hour yoga training would start at one of my local studios the upcoming weekend. After working through fear and overcoming a pattern to withdrawal, I took this as an undeniable sign and began the 6 month journey to yoga certification that very next Sunday. This liminal space, this year of transitioning out of partnership and into the unknown, brought me some of the richest, most alive and embodied experiences of my life. I grew exponentially as a yoga practitioner, but most importantly, I was present in this season to tend to the emotional and spiritual garden that was sprouting inside. Perhaps not yet a garden, but rather, healthy and resilient seedlings filled with promise.
Where are we rushing through transition in our lives, and where could we invite in more presence? How do we redefine the here and now so that it becomes a significant and tended-to lived experience, not just a checkpoint on our way to somewhere or something else? Maybe this intermediate season is the destination meant for us all along.
The past few weeks in my humble garden, I have been watching my herbs closely, learning from their graceful dance with nature's cycles. The seeds have germinated and tiny sprouts are breaking through to the surface… at an in-between. Soon, they will be ready to be transitioned from their seed trays to larger containers with room for expansion. But not yet. For now, they will remain seedlings in their soil cocoons… slowly and patiently, extending up toward the sun.