Not spinning thread or wool, but like an unknown planet pulled by gravity, spinning out into space.
About a year ago I made a video talking about transitions. I sat outside under a summer-green tree, reading little bits from a wonderful book by William Bridges titled Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes. I had recently decided to leave classroom teaching. Last May I attended my final CREST Christian Leadership course and graduation after two years of online study, and so this book’s ideas were fresh in mind.
Lately I feel a sense of spinning away from the center, of floating – rudderless – on an ocean of change. From childhood I’ve had a tendency to get lost in thought, or books, or a dream-world where life was beautiful and peaceful. Attaching to some real-world anchor would keep me from drifting off too far into poems and imaginary worlds. A job, a degree, a role, a relationship, a task. All the conventional things that people are meant to want and which we need in order to make sense of life and survive. The weight of mortgage payments that keep you heading off to work, the idea of a career rising, going from strength to strength. I once thought ambition was wise and right, and it may be for some who love the chase, but I’ve realized too much ambition makes a slave of one’s time and consumes the very self. Everything is poured out and laid down so the dogs at your heels will be satisfied, running faster and faster, but the dogs will have their day in the end regardless of how much you feed them. Ambition can consume and destroy everything in its path, including you.
But back to the book.
Letting Go
“…the transition always starts with an ending…Even though it sounds backward, endings always come first. The first task is to let go.” (81)
Stepping out and away from the comforting Forest of Familiarity, the Wasteland Wilderness feels exposed and pathless. A wide plain stretches in all directions, with nowhere to shelter from the elements. And that is why many stay in jobs or places or situations that they meant to leave long ago, but with little encouragement to make a necessary ending, or perhaps fear of change, there seemed no way out.
People know when it is time. There will be signs. A restlessness, as if the body is present but the mind is far away. Forgetfulness, maybe. Taking forever to do a task that used to be a breeze.
Sometimes the work is still fulfilling, but the place or situation is stifling. Disrespect, belittling, undermining or micro-managing and other unhealthy workplace environments may lead to a necessary exit. There are times to stay and create change on the inside, for sure, but if it is unfixable you will generally know. Are questions, risks, and truth-telling discouraged? Is there gaslighting or manipulation, constant interference or a high control environment? Ahh. It’s not worth sacrificing your hard work and self-worth on that altar – placing your beautiful hard-won pearls before the pigs, so to speak.
Letting go can also be part of natural life changes. Children leaving home, health challenges, or aging can create organic shifts. Holding a white-knuckled grip when life is moving on creates pain and tension. It’s like trying to keep a tree from growing; it will be stunted and ugly, where it should be tall and flourishing. Beautiful things need room to grow, and change creates space for new branches and leaves, new plans and experiences.
The letting go is difficult when you can’t see across the wilderness to the other side. However, the longer letting go takes the harder it is to actually do. Do you remember standing on the diving board for the first time, willing yourself to jump? The more time pacing back and forth, peering down to the water, imagining the fall…the less chance you end up jumping that day. It might seem easier to back down that ladder, but it sure feels a lot better to dive. Scary, yes, but exhilarating and freeing.
The Neutral Zone
Dr. Bridges characterizes the neutral zone as the gap between the old life and the new. Emptiness and sadness, confusion and loneliness are unpleasant, ghostly companions. Surrendering to the uncertainty -embracing it – is key. Finding time to be alone is also critical, where you can really hear your inner voice. People tend to default to what is familiar and comfortable. Even squeezed into a tight, stifling place, we would rather stay than risk moving up and out.
The most unexpected part of my coming to terms with loss was the long, slow process of dismantling my old world and the identity I had built in it. (117)
The “neutral zone” feels untethered because without the constant pressure to DO we are forced to THINK, REMEMBER, and FEEL. Reminiscing and making sense of the past, considering where you have come from and what your life has meant up to this point might be really uncomfortable. However, clinging to a string of tasks to try and stay busy only delays the process. Farmers allow ground to lie fallow for good reason, though a passerby might not understand. Fallowing, or allowing land to rest without crops, is a natural process that allows the soil to recover and replenish nutrients. When land is continuously cultivated without fallow periods, several consequences such as soil degradation, increased erosion and pests, diseases, and crop failure can occur. A few signs in people who have never “fallowed” may be irritability, unexplained tiredness, constant frustration that comes out in negative words about others, angry outbursts and feeling down or depressed.
How do we know when the neutral zone is finished? There doesn’t seem to be a prescription or guide. There is no golden key that once found, unlocks the door into what’s next. Simply trust in the process, keep learning, stay imaginative, do what is before you. Keep walking across that desert. Loneliness in the neutral zone can help us acknowledge and appreciate the relationships we have. Lack of structure can help us imagine new ways of living. Restlessness or uncertainty can push us to revisit or find hobbies that we once loved or plans we hadn’t thought possible. Just keep going, and look for the doors.
New Chapters
I am spinning out between planets, but I’m not idle. I work at many things, but none are demanding and controlling unless I allow that to happen. The mind builds castles out of ideas. There are endless possibilities, yes, but the present moment is of most value and wonder. Constant striving to arrive and constant fixation with “what’s next” are both harsh masters. Who am I now? What is my title, if not teacher? Maybe I am enough without one.
Walking across the desert, a barely perceptible path appears. Following this path, it widens and takes shape. Ahead is a garden brimming with life and colour, waterfalls and trees. Here and there doors await, each one leading further onward and upward. You can try them all, or choose one and let it define the next chapter. The goal is to enjoy the process, not merely the arriving. For now, spinning between these planets, I am content to observe and listen and be undefined.
Life goes on. I can hang on to the former things and be stretched until I break, or let go and wander, trusting what lies ahead will be there to greet me. And on the journey savoring each step for the beauty and lessons it unfolds.
Stories for Humans 