The funny thing about transition is that, when you’re in the heart of it, all of you can think about is what it’s going to be like when you’re out of it.
We think, “Oh, it’s going to be so great when I finally finish X.” or “Everything is going to be so different a year from now!” or “I know that, in time, I’ll be healed and ready for something new.”
For me, a mixture of all of these thoughts has been floating around in my mind these past few weeks as I both process and work through the pain and confusion of a really unique and difficult heartache and also prepare to step into a brand new adventure in my professional and personal development.
So, I’m in the middle of this heart transformation and about to start a mind and soul transformation—oh, and did I mention I picked now as the perfect time to start a clean eating meal plan? It’s a great upheaval. A tossing of everything into the air. A spring awakening of sorts.
And I’m truly feeling the full spectrum of emotions. It’s amazing I’m able to carry on a sense of normalcy when one moment I’m grieving and lonely and the other, I’m energized and excited for things to come.
All the while, I’m imagining what life is going to look like six months from now. A year from now. While I certainly know I’ll be facing a unique set of challenges, the view I see a year from now looks amazing. I truly believe that in a year from now, my career will look better and brighter than ever before. My relationships will be stronger and more meaningful. I will be even more in tune with who I really am. There’s so much potential ahead, so much I am setting myself up for, that all there’s left to do…is the work.
There it is again. A reminder of my Word of the Year: Show Up. I’ve touched on this phrase a few times throughout #theampersandproject and it continues to be a guiding lesson. In order for me to get to there, I need to show up and do. the. work. This year calls for being disciplined and creating solid habits, hunkering down and spilling it all out on paper, and finding joy in the process.
That last bit—finding joy in the process—is something I’m really aiming for as I move forward, but I’ll be honest: it’s not easy. When something is a process, it implies that it takes time and, more importantly, a great deal of patience. Out of all of the adjectives in the world to associate with patience, joy is probably not the first that comes to mind, but this journey I’m on has already taught me that with patience comes contentment—an unwavering confidence that you are in the right place, at the right time and on your way to something great. And wouldn’t that make you feel joyful, knowing you’re doing everything you can and you’re exactly where you need to be?
Even though I’m in the middle of chaos, I firmly believe I am indeed in exactly the right place at the right time. How do I know? I think I’ve arrived at this point of clarity and confidence simply because I finally made some big decisions. Decisions that were scary and risky and uncomfortable to make, but totally and completely necessary.
During our last call, my coach Rachel said to me, “When you make a big decision, sometimes life floods you with signs that you did the right thing and are on the right path.” And boy, has God and the universe done its part to deliver all the right signs! Between a special prayer, my first tarot reading, and the perfect timing of a mastermind retreat, I heard the message loud and clear that I’m supposed to be focusing on me and my career and my relationship with myself at this time. Deal.
I’m not alone in this phenomena. We all look for signs before we make decisions, but they often come after we decide to take a step forward in a new direction. My friend Douglas recently captured his experience beautifully:
And maybe that’s the lesson of signs. They have a habit of appearing after we’ve moved, after we’ve chosen. I wanted something to tell me beforehand, and while all of this was there the whole time, it was waiting for me to choose first. It wouldn’t have appeared if I hadn’t. It couldn’t. I had to choose to make the signs happen.
It makes sense, though, if you think about it. The dominos don’t start falling until after you start them. You have to push one in order to set off the chain reaction.
So, amid the discomfort and the awkwardness and the anxiousness, there is peace in the decision. Because of the decision. There is a deeper knowing. Sometimes it hides, sometimes I come undone, sometimes we crack and crumble, but it’s there. And all we can do is cling to that peace as best as we can. And as for me...it's time to get to work.