I’ve been thinking a lot about transitions lately—a deep awareness of the in-between space I’ve occupied in one way or another over the past 8 years since my child was born.
(Side note: part of me suspects that we’re ALWAYS in transition in one way or another—the seasons change; we grow older, as do our children; we end and begin jobs and relationships; our identities are in states of evolution. Sounds like transition!)
It’s particularly acute now; graduate school ended about five weeks ago, and I’ve been adjusting to a full schedule of therapy clients at the practice where I work in Northeast, Minneapolis.
It’s not been a rocky or particularly jarring transition—it’s similar and different to the past 9 months and going quite smoothly—which is probably why I notice a tendency to minimize the disorientation I feel.
I notice a desire to get to “the other side” and feel confident and competent, with a schedule that I’ve crafted after careful consideration, and the internal awareness to take breaks. To relax a little!
(Oh, the romance of “the other side”. How tempting it is to wait until we are settled and sure before relaxing into our lives.)
Last year, a wise person quoted another wise person to me, saying:
“Transitional space is desirable.”
The phrase stuck in my chest with its resonance.
I’m thinking of the scene in Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin where Sadie visits Japan and walks through the gates. It reads:
“She realized what a gate was: it was an indication that you had left one space and were entering another.
What was a gate anyway? A doorway, she thought. A portal. The possibility of a different world.”
Perhaps what we forget is that our transition begins the moment we even consider stepping through the doorway, rather than after we get acclimated to the new land.
The disorientation exists because we are in a new world. Liminal space—neither firmly attached to the past, nor comfortably situated in the next thing.
How many times have you rushed yourself to the other side of a transition?
Pushed yourself to feel better or “get over it” or confidently occupy a new identity before you were ready?
In a culture that worships the binary in so many aspects of life, what if the in-between offers us a medicine of sorts?
An opportunity to grieve and feel; enough change in our routine to really stop and notice the magic of this human thing with more awareness and care. The sense of groundlessness that really wakes us up.
What if this is where the magic resides? Not quite back there, but also not yet over there.
If we saw the possibility held by the liminal, would we relax a little?
Show more tenderness to ourselves?
Make more space to process the emotions that emerge?
One can only hope.
Wherever you are—here or there or in-between—I wish you the awareness that you are in great company with many other travelers, quietly considering or stepping through doorways, all around you.
Sending softness your way,
Laura
Transitional space calls for water, time in nature, space in your schedule whenever possible, and tending to plants.
I was inspired by this interview with Plant Kween to try my hand with some new plants.
I’m reading Tricia Hersey’s book Rest Is Resistance, and re-reading Ross Gay’s The Book of Delights. Rest and delight feel like important transitional ingredients. (These links are to my local small bookstore, which ships, but you can visit yours—or use the library, which is truly MAGIC.)
A reminder that summer is full of opportunities for softness and sweetness: sitting in grass, outdoor music, watermelon and farmer’s market produce, sprinklers, and slow walks admiring the neighborhood flowers.
I think you’d love my friend Rachel’s substack, The Joy Loop. She writes from the heart, and welcomes softness.
A quick note to say: my creative coaching books are currently closed to new clients. I have one or two therapy client spots opening up in late June/early July at Northeast Psychotherapy in Minneapolis. I work with adults navigating mood disorders, life anxiety, transitions, parenting challenges, and outcomes related to developmental trauma. We accept a range of insurances. You can learn more here.