Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch Chaaang. .es . . Becoming An Empty Nester
Mindfully Navigating Transitions
This fall I became an empty-nester. On one hand, it’s hard to believe. After all, I remember being a new mom, and a flood of memories fill my mind. When I had an infant, I saw the moms with college-aged kids as a completely different world from me, and couldn’t remotely imagine myself there. And yet here I am, and it doesn’t feel that weird at all. It’s been a gradual transition, as our daughters naturally started to spread their wings, family dinners no longer the norm, negotiating when we’d see them on the weekend. In fact, I’ve been preparing for it, even naming this as a year of transition, with a focus on savoring. (See my April blog).
And I have been trying to be intentional about what I want to do in this new phase. This includes everything from a deep clean of the house (it feels like a need for nesting in a new way), to going out a bit more on weeknights with my husband Jon, to symbolically updating my family Facebook photo. I’ve also been journaling, recognizing that I’ve gone through a gate of life. I’ll never get to raise my girls again from 0-18. They are now young adults. I can turn some of my energy elsewhere. I’m “late” middle-aged. I’m at the high point of the final arc of my career, I have more time for travel and going on long bike rides, Jon and I are in a new phase of our marriage. I’m choosing to be awake through it. On any given day, it can feel like no big deal, change happens constantly, and on other days, I recognize that the stars of most TV shows are younger than me. I’ve gotten multiple AARP mailings, and get called Ma’am by cashiers. Time marches forward and I want to step past this next threshold with curiosity, grace and gratitude.
There are times when we are at the threshold of a new phase. While some are more societally recognized than others, such as graduating from college, getting married, or the birth of a child, others are a bit more quiet-- the end of a job or relationship, loss of the second parent, or children leaving for college. It’s useful to see these events as transitions as well, because they are thresholds to something new and require a pause in order to orient ourselves to our new situation.
Threshing, in its literal sense, involves pounding cereal grains to remove husks and extract the seeds, symbolizing the separation of valuable elements from the unwanted ones (known as separating the wheat from the chaff). Metaphorically, the threshing floor represents the place where we engage in inner work, symbolized by actions such as treading, turning, twisting, or flailing, signifying the process of introspection and self-discovery.
William Bridges, an author known for his work on managing transitions, developed a model that outlines the three stages of transition that individuals go through when they experience change:
Ending, Losing, and Letting Go: People in this stage often experience feelings of loss, fear, and uncertainty.
The Neutral Zone: The neutral zone is a period of confusion and chaos that occurs between the ending of the old way and the beginning of the new way.
The New Beginning: Confidence and a sense of purpose return and it's a time of renewed energy and commitment.
It’s important to note that these stages are not linear, and people may move back and forth between them before fully embracing the change.
I recently went through all of these stages. As many of you know, Lithuania has been a huge part of my life, and with both Alina and Aleksa passing their Intermediate Lithuanian exams at the completion of high school, I see that a profound phase of my life is ending. The last 20 years, I committed to having them speak Lithuanian, to know the country, and have Lithuania be a part of their identity.
We went to Lithuania every year, sometimes even twice a year if I was able to get a work project there, in addition to Lithuanian summer camp in the US. In elementary school, they watched more Lithuanian cartoons than English, we had Lithuanian kid music in the car, read Dork Diaries with me in Lithuanian, and in high school worked with their Lithuanian teachers on curriculum that would be accepted by our schools here as an independent study.
With my role was hard, there were lots of tears and it took an incredible amount of energy and perseverance. It was a huge orientation of my life, and their lives (ask them how they feel about spending evenings studying noun declensions), and it was coming to a close. This has been my “Ending, Losing and Letting Go.”
And then the “Neutral Zone”: this year, I have spent time reflecting on my life with Lithuania, from when I lived there during the independence period, working at the Embassy in Washington, DC with the first Lithuanian diplomatic corps, adventures backpacking in the former USSR with Lithuanian friends, to becoming Honorary Consul, and working as a leadership development consultant in Lithuania. I’ve looked at old photos, journaled, spoken with friends, cried a little about the passage of time, and sat in the loss and the unknown.
And a “New Beginning”: Through this process, I’ve come to know I won’t be happy just walking the streets of Old Town. I want to be a thread in Lithuania’s fabric of life. Although I wil continue to volunteer and work on projects there, it has become clear to me that what I really want next is to enjoy Lithuania more.
As a result, I’ve started a list of fun things I can do there, from taking a sauna course (yes, that’s a thing), to biking trips, learning about herbs, pottery, and even going there for events when we couldn’t before because of the school calendar. Rather than making sure the kids are seeing the important cultural sites and having fun (the water park, chocolate shop, and beach among their favorites) there’s a freedom now where I can go deeper into what interests me. And that has me excited and looking forward to the future. My next trip is planned for March.
What about you? What transitions have you successfully navigated that you can learn from and what is coming before you? Drop me a note, I’d love to hear.
Great Link
Thoughtful TED Talk on this topic: The secret to mastering life's biggest transitions (17:48)
Reflection Exercise: Moving from Theory to Action
To support you in navigating transitions, here are some questions to consider:
Endings:
What am I leaving behind as I move through this transition?
What emotions am I experiencing about the ending, and how am I processing them?
What have I learned from the experiences leading up to this transition?
Neutral Zone:
What uncertainties or challenges am I currently facing?
What new opportunities or possibilities are emerging in this phase?
How can I embrace the ambiguity and use this time for personal growth?
New Beginnings:
What are my goals and aspirations for this new phase of life?
What steps can I take to align my actions with my newfound purpose or direction?
Who can support me as I embark on this new journey, and how can I seek their help?
Quarterly Quote
“Change is situational. Transition, on the other hand, is psychological. It is not those events, but rather the inner reorientation or self-redefinition that you have to go through in order to incorporate any of those changes into your life. Without transition, a change is just a rearrangement of the furniture. Unless transition happens, the change won’t work, because it doesn’t take.” – William Bridges
Book Review
The Second Half of Life: Opening the Eight Gates of Wisdom
By: Angeles Arrien
I’ve had this book on my shelf for years, yet it never called me until now, as I wasn’t at the threshold of this conversation. I am now ready and finding it extremely valuable at this crossover at midlife. This book is a collection of teachings, reflections, and stories from around the world which open us to the challenge and deeper mysteries of the second half of life. It provides a wonderful structure to look at different aspects of one’s life and to reflect, assess, heal and plan for the next phase on an emotional and spiritual level. Each chapter takes you step-by-step through each gate “to deepen your most valuable relationships, reclaim your untended creative talents, and shift your focus from ambition to meaning to grow into the exceptional elder you've always imagined you would one day become.” It’s a visually beautiful book, and I’m taking my time with it, letting it unfold slowly.