ON TRANSITIONS

[I'm repeating this post because it is once again timely . . . our church is in a state of transition, clergy leaving, new clergy arriving; perhaps our congregation joining with another church with struggles we have as well. The real lesson here is simply this: Life is about change, and change is another word that indicates we're making a transition from one whatever to a different whatever. I've made peace, more or less, with the transitions in my life--those already happened, those to come. It's a never-ending process, which is another way to say, that's the way life is.]

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Transition, noun: the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

Synonyms: change, passage, move, transformation, conversion, metamorphosis, alteration, handover, changeover; segue, shift, switch, jump, leap, progression; progress, development, evolution, flux

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Lately I am thinking about transitions (see above). I even perused two dictionaries, both of which did not entirely agree with the above definitions that I culled from the Internet. (There's a lesson in there somewhere.)

About all I came up with is that a transition is a noun: the process or period during which something goes from one state or condition to another.

Change, on the other hand, is mostly used as a verb: to vary, alter, or otherwise modify, transform, etc. something or someone.

We've come to regard transition as a verb (sorry, I didn't mean this to become an English class)--we talk about transitioning from one state to another. The quotation I used at the beginning of this post shows the proper use--making the transition--of the noun.

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Whew! Now that we've got that settled, let's go on with transition as a noun and what it means in Real Life.

In the past I’ve recognized I was going through a transition only after I passed through it. Does that make sense? I think so.

Now, at an advanced age, I am aware of transition as I make it . . . for example, what I’m doing differently now that I have some limitations. Such as:

Tendinitis – I knit or sew for shorter periods of time, in order to keep my

arm from going into spasms.

     Lower energy levels – My days are planned around the must-dos so that
     I don’t overdo; three events in one day are the absolute limit. Sometimes
     it’s just one, such as a big family holiday dinner with lots of folks around.

     Memory and Follow-through – I don’t do long-term projects. Small ones
     suit me now because I’ll get them finished. My life is strewn with WIPs
     (Works in Progress) that may never get to the finish line: quilts cut out
     but not sewn, half-knitted items, manuscripts of  the beginnings of stories;
     not to mention boxes of stored items in the garage that may (but probably
     don’t) contain items of value, but should be sorted.

Some days I’m not happy with myself. My Today List is longer than the hours it takes to accomplish them, now that I’m a tortoise and not a hare. (Did I used to get all that stuff done in one day?) I go to bed vaguely dissatisfied with unfinished projects, items on my list that didn’t get checked off.

Then I remember all the things that I did do—perhaps small things that never made it to The List: an email to a friend I don’t see very often; a phone call from one of the kids; bills paid so I don’t get penalties; bird feeders filled and suet put out. If I can recall these things, then I realize I’m not totally inert. I may not move as fast as I used to (Tortoise Syndrome), but I do move. And I remember that there’s always another day (probably) in which to do some more.

I suspect the real point of transitions has to do with perspective--how does a person react to the change from one state or condition to another? Here's a glimpse at my perspectives:

I'm not crazy about having tendinitis, which can be treated, but after a while its effects are definitely limiting to some of my activities. Should I give up knitting? Quit sitting at a sewing machine to make quilts for charitable giving?
     No, but I don't have to give myself impossible deadlines.

A super-busy day on the calendar has me almost dreading it. If I don't have enough energy to get through an extra activity, what's the worst thing that will happen?
     I'll take a nap when I get home--or go to bed earlier--or give myself a
     "day off" the next day to rest up.

Some of my half-baked projects can be finished--by someone else, perhaps; or by me, if they morph into something besides what they first were intended to be.
     Nothing is cast in stone; I can change my mind without penalty--after all,
     it's my project.

Transitions aren't good--or bad. They simply are. They signal the change from one state or condition to the next. (See definitions at the beginning of this post.)

Sometimes they're happy changes--from being a single gal to being a married one. Or from Mom to Grandma. Sometimes they're less desirable--aging with some of the health problems (and wrinkles and grey hair and gravity problems) that may accrue as we mature.

But if we're still alive, we're always in transition. Think about it.

LIFE-CHANGING EVENTS

[This post appeared three years ago--and after I read through it, I recognized it was as meaningful to me now as it was then. I edited a couple of things to get the sense straight. Hope you think through your life-changing events--you may have weathered more storms than you think, and learned a lot in the process.]

I owe a debt of gratitude to Liz Flaherty for a recent blog post on WordWranglers [sometime in 2016]. She shared life-changing moments or events with readers and invited them to share their own.

Since I seldom jump right into anything without mulling it over, wrassling it around, and pummeling it into shape, I didn’t come up with my own list until several days later. Since then I’ve pared the list to three:

·         October 1955 when I found out my mother was dying

·         February 1960 when I gave birth to my first child

·         March 2006 when I retired from 29 consecutive years in a law office

Each of these marked the beginning of a new life for me.

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One October evening in 1955, I was riding with my Aunt Virginia and her husband to a city an hour from our home—we were on our way to visit my mom who had just had surgery and was recuperating enough to be able to return to Charleston where I lived with my dad.

As we traveled through the dark night, Aunt Virginia told me that my mother would not live much longer. The cancer had progressed too far. The reason she was telling me, she said, was so I’d be prepared and not break down when I went into the room to see my mom.

I’ve always been glad it was Aunt Virginia who told me; she was my favorite aunt, my mother’s youngest sister, and had been with Mom when I was born. In the nearly fifteen years I’d known her, she had always showed me love and acceptance. The news I’d just heard wasn’t good, but it was compassionately shared.

Though we didn’t know it then, I would have six months to make the transition from teenager to fledgling adult. In some ways, a too-soon adult in a teenage body. The mental shift took a long time: No mom to share my school day news with—no siblings also grieving—a silent father who, I suspected, was also grieving, even though he had remarried after the divorce.

Eventually I turned to writing because it was a place where I could commune with myself about what I felt and experienced. During the next couple of years I wrote a lot of poetry and a few short stories. This period of my life marked the beginning of a life in the written word—and writing as a way of healing.

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In February 1960 I was given another opportunity to grow—my first child was born. I named her for my mother.

In a very short time—hours, maybe a couple of days—I learned that I didn’t know the first thing about being a mom. I had no friends having babies, no sisters or sisters-in-law, no cousins my age with kids (or if I did, they lived too far away and I seldom saw them).

No mommy blogs—though the few I’ve read make motherhood sound like a romp in the park. For example: baby with earache screaming in the night? Piece o’ cake! Refusal to drink milk or eat cereal? Par for the course. Diarrhea? So what! (I‘m glad there were no such blogs when I was a young mom—I’d’ve felt even more inadequate than I actually did.)

In time I learned to go with the flow (along about Child No. 3, I think). Not every aberration was life-threatening; the doctor’s phone number was right by the phone; and eventually I found another mom (also with a first child) who had nieces and nephews to learn on, so she helped me weather First Baby Syndrome.

I’m pleased to report that my firstborn is alive and well in Arizona, teaching sociology; she finished her Ph.D. (Sometimes I call her Dr. Palmer.)

Her three siblings all grew up, developed their own personalities and interests, and—this may be a shock to some readers—the four of them get along well, visit by phone and email, and actually enjoy getting together when they can. (They live in Arizona, Ohio, Indiana, and Minnesota.)

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My most recent life shift came in March 2006 when I retired from 29 years in a law office as a paralegal. I worked one more year as a contract worker to assist the woman, already a seasoned employee at the office, to settle into the kind of work I had done. My assistance was scarcely necessary after the first couple of months, but I continue to visit Emily and eat lunch with her a couple times a week while we knit our various projects.

The biggest adjustment to retirement was how to handle my time—I had so much time! After I went to the Y, had breakfast, and swallowed a handful of pills/vitamins/supplements, I was free to—well, do whatever. There was a pretty strenuous learning curve to this process. If I had no plan, not much got done; if I had a too-firm plan, a lot got done but I wasn’t pleased at the end of my day--and I was too tired to eat (that's tired!).

What I learned: Have a plan (you remember my Today List?)—modify, if necessary—let go of disappointments—put the unfinished things on the next day’s List. And don't forget to rest. Might not work for everyone, but it did for me.

My life is as full as I want—I have freedom to say "no, thanks" if I don’t want to do something—and I have time to explore new ideas and adventures. I take naps when I need to and rest every afternoon. 

The best thing of all—I can go on learning: how to manage my days, how to make the best of this time in my life (which is quite different from other eras), how to enjoy what I do, how to keep growing.

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Thanks, Liz Flaherty, for stirring up memories. Life changers can work for good, if we let them.

[And they never stop coming . . . thanks be.]

VALENTINE'S DAY - 2019 

[This post appeared five years ago--I can't think of one thing to add.]

VALENTINE’S DAY AND THOUGHTS ON LOVE

W

hether it was a little candy heart that said “I LUV U” or a big box of chocolates, Valentine’s Day comes with memories and smiles.

Here are some quotations I came across. Hope you find something to touch your heart on this day we celebrate Love.

Love is a friendship set to music.

Joseph Campbell

The most precious gift we can offer anyone is our attention.

When mindfulness embraces those we love,

they will bloom like flowers.

Thich Nhat Hanh

Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without

and know we cannot live within.

James Baldwin

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply,

without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know

any other way of loving but this,

in which there is no I or you, so intimate that

your hand upon my chest is my hand,

so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

Pablo Neruda

love is the voice under all silences,

the hope which has no opposite in fear,

the strength so strong mere force is feebleness:

the truth more first than sun,

more last than star . . .

e e cummings

You know you're in love when you don't want to fall asleep

because reality is finally better than

your dreams.

Dr. Seuss

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast,

it is not proud.

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,

it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts,

always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

..............

And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love.

But the greatest of these is love.

I Corinthians 13:4-13

Happy Valentine's Day!



EMBRACING THE UNEXPECTED

Remember a few weeks back I said I'd chosen to "embrace the unexpected," and that the word unexpected had already appeared on my radar?

The word was well-chosen, because unexpected keeps showing up. It's not a blip--more like a permanent resident.

So far we've had unexpected high temps--today's high forecast at 58 degrees! Tonight's low, 16 degrees!

I thought it was winter, at least until closer to March 20th.

We're naming winter storms now--last I saw was Winter Storm Lucian. If we're up to the L's, we're nearly halfway through the alphabet. Hmmm.....

We could say that winter weather--storms, ice, heavy snow, even freezing rain--isn't unexpected. Up here in the north country, those conditions are what winter is all about, right?

Yesterday we had fog--not quite a pea-souper, but close. I drove home from a shopping trip in a nearby town below my usual speed, with eyes peeled for sudden appearances of other vehicles I didn't expect.

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Basically, I'm getting a crash course in embracing the unexpected. 

I've figured out a few ways to deal with some of these changes. For instance:

--keep three seasons of clothes out and available--long heavyweight sweats and turtle neck tops; medium weight fitness clothes and tee-shirts; fitness capris and tank tops. Socks in all weights. Shoes ditto. Coats of all types.

--fill the freezer with meals that vary from light and lean to hearty and filling.


--make sure there's entertainment available for frozen-in-solid days; books and DVDs work well when the chores are done. Plus, DVDs are great while I'm doing those chores.

--pull out unfinished projects (called UFOs by quilters and others) and actually finish one of them!

--get used to shopping whenever the street and driveway are cleared of ice and snow--never mind what day it is or even the time of day.



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I've figured out a couple more things:

1. Don't try to anticipate the unexpected. (A no-brainer, right? But once you've experienced the chaos of The Unexpected, you begin to speculate. Resist that temptation.)

2. Take notes. Who knows? Those moments/days/week-upon-week of chaos might make a good blog post some time in the future; or not.

3. Look for meaning. Remember this: On Christmas Eve, a bunch of shepherds were visited by angelic beings bringing them an enormous message. Now, that's unexpected.

4. Don't worry if you don't get a great big Life Lesson every time. Or any time. You might. You might not.

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Have a blessed week.