I like to believe I am good at dealing with change. That I am able to accept its inevitability and even embrace it with some level of insight. That I am less passive than I used to be and actively engage it when it comes into my life. I see change as a force and an entity that doesn’t really give a shit about our feelings, and just shows up to fulfill its purpose, whether invited or not. Like, Yes I will come up in your house and rearrange all the furniture and take what I want with me when I leave because that’s what the fuck I do. In fact, I might just take the whole damn house.
I try not to take it personally.
I’ve also realized over the years that when change makes its way to me, it’s best to release and let go, rather than be dragged kicking and screaming, clutching to that raggedy-ass armchair that doesn’t fit anymore.
This time, change literally took the whole house. We unexpectedly had to move out of our apartment, and have been living in a temporary place until we find our new home. Where we are now is fine, but it’s not ours. I miss having our own space and feeling more settled each day, when the long journey of moving abroad becomes a little more comfortable and familiar. I know that we will find the home that is meant for us, without a doubt. I absolutely trust that I will get what I need. I always do. What’s been hard is not knowing when.
For the past month, I’ve been coping with the part of change that is really challenging for me – transition. That space between what was and what will be. Which we are always inhabiting, at every moment. And yet, it’s during times like these, when the shift seems large and abrupt, that I become aware of how things are constantly in flux, how often we are between spaces, how fleetingly we experience those glimpses into the impermanence of life with conscious attention.
I’m being reminded that trusting the outcome isn’t the same as trusting the process.
I’ve been making the choice, every day, to do what I need to do to feel grounded during this time. To not struggle against what I know is necessary for me to expand and grow. To not be swept away by worries or, worse, just wait for it all to be over.
It’s a delicate balance, navigating uncertainty. Going with the flow of where this change is moving me, while also tending to the daily rituals and work that keep me present. Allowing myself to feel whatever I feel about the unstable nature of things right now, while also respectfully showing up for what has remained and the opportunities that are presenting themselves. Some days I feel assured that I am moving in a good and positive direction, and then there are nights I have trouble sleeping because I know I can’t control this process that is shaping my life.
This is when I rely on my self-care practice most – yoga, journaling, communing with my ancestors, getting up in that tarot, giving myself Reiki treatments. Working on my creative projects, connecting with folks, and offering myself in service to those who ask also get me outside of my own head and into the world. And maybe this practice I have created is what I can count on, with certainty, to get me through these times of transition. From the inside out, to the other side.