I am in transition, moving from one home to another. I vacillate between feeling happy and excited to concerned and nervous about what lies ahead. This new change has strangely made it clear to me that I am quite odd. When I left my last job, I filed all the necessary paperwork to retire, everyone knew I was retiring, I was the honoree at an event that was clearly identified as my retirement party and yet I could not associate and say the word “retirement” when talking about my pending departure. “Retirement” seemed so final, and I wanted to leave the door open in case I wanted or needed to reenter the workforce. People retire every day and then start new positions. For some reason, I couldn’t get comfortable with that well-established path, so I wrote in my communication to my superiors that I was resigning. How odd.
For the last few years I often spoke about wanting to live in a place that was smaller and had the primary bedroom on the first floor. I knew that would be a better arrangement for my husband and me as we aged. We worked hard to figure out what our next place would look like and to get everything in place to make the planned move a reality. We sold the house, packed up our life and moved. However, even now, when folks hear that we have moved and will soon be in a smaller place, they say, “Oh, you downsized?” I don’t respond with the logical response, which would be “Yes,” instead I say, “We are getting a place that works better for us.” So odd. What is this reluctance to use appropriate words to describe my present reality?
I think it’s just the finality of the words. “Retirement” to me means that I will no longer work. That door is closed. “Downsizing” means that I will forever be in a smaller space. Since both moves were a culmination of my efforts and dreams, why such a reluctance to call them what they are?
Transitions can feel like a series of contradictions, filled with both excitement and apprehension. Embracing these contradictions and recognizing them as part of the process can help us navigate through them more gracefully. We often shy away from terms that feel too definitive because they seem to box us into a specific narrative or path, limiting our sense of possibility.
The words we choose to describe our transitions are powerful. They shape our perception of our journey and influence how we feel about our changes. Perhaps reframing these terms will help me adjust. Instead of seeing “retirement” as an end, I now view it as a new chapter full of opportunities and potential. Instead of “downsizing,” I hope to think of it as “right-sizing” for this season of my life to better fit our current needs and goals.
By acknowledging and accepting our reluctance to use certain words, we can better understand our emotions and reactions. It’s okay to feel unsure or hesitant during transitions. What’s important is to honor our feelings and give ourselves the grace to adapt at our own pace.
In transition, we are constantly redefining our lives and ourselves. Each step, whether it’s retiring from a job, moving to a new home (or starting a new relationship), is part of our evolving story. Should you find yourself in transition like me, my hope is that you will better embrace your journey, trust your decisions, and know that it’s perfectly fine to use the words that resonate most with you, even if they don’t fit the conventional mold. After all, your transition is uniquely yours.
Lou
Kommentare