Last week I had a friend suggest that readers may find value if I wrote about being “in it” as I navigate this period of transition in my life. Realizing how much I have gained from talking to others and reading about transitions, I thought I’d give it a try. Thanks for the inspiration, Jennifer!
One evening when my oldest son was about 6 months old, I remember standing in the kitchen making tea. My husband came down, squinting as his his eyes adjusted to the light.
“How many Rudolphs?” I asked
“Seventeen.”
We had taken to singing our son to sleep - nothing else seemed to work, and being close to Christmas, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer came to mind one night. I knew all the words and started singing, on repeat, as I paced his room, rocking him in my arms until he fell asleep. It felt like the ultimate endurance event.
I am generally optimistic, but when I am going through a particularly tough time (kids are challenging, I can’t see the path for my future, I don’t have an answer on how to handle a tricky situation), I have trouble seeing that my position will ever change.
When we are “in it” how do we tap into that wisdom to stay the course, be patient and know that it will pass?
The logical part of my brain says, “this is a phase, it will pass.” But the emotional side feels doubt, “but when and how?” My problem solving instinct wants to figure it out now (or yesterday), create the to do list and move on.
I am learning, and re-learning, that life doesn’t quite work out this way and that sometimes we have to sit in the discomfort of not knowing and the murkiness of uncertainty. Hence the multitudes of cliches about this very feeling:
“This too shall pass.”
“Stay the course.”
“One step at a time.”
“There is a light at the end of the tunnel.”
I even hear Dory, the character from Disney’s, Finding Nemo, singing, “Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.”
Hearing and reading all of these things is fine and good until you are “in it” and need the confidence to believe this wisdom is true, be patient and endure.
In those moments with my son, I was convinced that I would be singing Rudolph for the rest of my life.
I am not, in fact, still singing Rudolph.
I don’t remember when it stopped, but it did. He is 10 now and falls asleep just fine on his own.
Everything is a phase, but our perspective makes it hard to see the end of the phase until we are out of it.
As I try to wrap up this thought for now, I feel myself grasping for the enlightening solution or a wise phrase. But the truth is we each have to live our “in it“ in the way that feels most authentic to us.
Right now I am trying to do three things:
Find my people. By allowing myself to be vulnerable and share the hard stuff, I’ve been bolstered by empathy and wisdom. There is strength in solidarity and knowing that even though we have to make the hard decisions on our own, we have people who believe in us.
Celebrate small steps and little wins. These matter.
Give myself permission to alter my approach. I won’t give up on myself, but I can change tactics if something isn’t working.
Love this. I think you’re spot on about the three things you’re trying to do. For me, the second bullet is always the hardest. My wife and I try to do this at home, and I try to remember to do it with my team (in both cases maybe not enough) but I never do it for myself. (New koan: what’s the sound of one hand giving a high five? 😁) I’m trying to get better at recognizing every time I cross something off the endless to-do list it’s a win and I should be pleased before moving on to the next thing.