How to find a way through change.
When we’re in the middle of change and nothing is clear, how do we find the way forward?
Maybe you’ve experienced that kind of change, where who you were and how life was doesn’t fit any longer, or perhaps life as it was no longer exists at all, like in the case of a death or a breakup or a global pandemic.
We can’t go back, but we also don’t know which way to go now.
The messy middle of change. It’s uncomfortable and there’s often a sense of urgency to figure it out, pick the right path, to hurry up and get out of here, this place where our sense of ourselves and our understanding of how things are supposed to be is being challenged.
To get back to certainty, to get back to solid ground.
I wonder if we can stop for a minute?
To notice whether we’re trying to force a way forward, or if the way we’ve found feels clear, like a magnet that’s drawing us onwards?
And if we notice we’re trying to force a way forward, if we notice a sense of urgency or ‘forward agitation’ as one of my teachers so aptly calls it… can we get curious about that?
It’s likely that some or all of you won’t want to, and if that’s your experience reading these words, it’s normal and it’s okay (there’s a part of me who’s experiencing not wanting to go there while I’m writing them).
There are three loose phases to this kind of change. They’re non-linear, meaning they don’t go in neat steps, one, two, three and we’re done, change accomplished. We’ll move back and forth between all of them for a time before we find our way to our new normal.
Phase one - grieving what was. Taking some time to feel whatever we need to feel about the ending of that time in our lives. Grief, rage, relief, excitement, guilt, numbness.
Phase two - taking time in the unknown. It’ll take time to create a new normal, to find a path that fits our feet and feels good, that isn’t just an attempt to escape from the discomfort of change. We might have to tend to some trauma, heal some hurt. We might need to get quiet and figure out what we really want, to take some time to incubate and daydream and nurture the small seeds of what’s next. This is a time of getting quiet, of going inwards, and it can’t be rushed.
Phase three - our new normal. We begin to orient to a more external focus - our seeds have grown enough to share them with the world, maybe what we’ve been incubating has hatched and is ready to fly. We have a sense of who we are and how our world works once again.
So if you’re in the messy middle of change, as so many of us are - my invitation to you is to take all the time you need here. Grieve, rest, daydream a new future, let yourself be held in the cocoon of not knowing, as challenging as that can sometimes be. Hang out there until a way opens up in front of you that feels like truth, rather than an escape from discomfort. It will come.
Also - don’t do it alone.
Perhaps you have others in your life who can be with you through times of change without jumping to try and fix everything for you or give you endless advice.
Or you might like to think about booking a few sessions with me - you can contact me here if you’d like to find out what that might look like. Change work is big work, and I’m here for people going through it, with kindness and gentle curiosity.