Transition blues

In how many beds have you slept in the past month?

That’s not a provocative statement, is it? :-)

Just during the past 7 days, Linda and I have slept in 6 different beds.

Our lives are so full of change, shifting and adjustment that it’s hard to find a “normal” rating anywhere. Tonight, we leave for Phoenix again because our container comes in tomorrow morning at 10:00 a.m. and we have several people coming over to help us unload (we have 2 hours to unload the container without extra cost). We hope to achieve that goal because the temperatures are expected to reach 111 degrees!

Back to transition... One of the marks of transition is the feeling of not belonging. You feel like you don’t have a home. You feel like you don’t have a place in life. You feel like the days are passing and there is no real purpose or meaning to them. It’s like riding a roller coaster over and over and over and over again. At first, the thrill is addicting and enjoyable and even therapeutic (for those of us who enjoy roller coasters). Then, you make adjustments for a different thrill (from the very front seat to the very back seat, then with your eyes closed and arms raised and on). After a while, you realize that the scenery doesn’t change and you don’t go anywhere - you can’t get anywhere because that’s not the purpose of the roller coaster.

At the same time, you feel like your routine is non-existent. You can’t find a rhythm for your day-to-day existence. You can’t get a grasp of forward motion. Everybody else’s lives seem to be so much more meaningful than your own.

You begin to question your day-to-day activities and struggle to find meaning in them. Your existence seems to be non-essential, unimportant and hollow.You laugh easily, but the laughter is punctuated with a sigh. Tears rise easily at the mention of a person, animal or nation in any kind of pain.

It’s a good time because your heart is tender, sensitive and responsive. It’s a crappy time -- for the exact same reason. Who wants to cry at the plight of penguins in Antarctica? It’s a time of self-probing. A time of de-toxing from the frenetic activity that so often masks our hearts with pseudo-compassion that motivates us to salve our consciences through giving financial gifts or anything but ourselves.

It’s a painful time because you’re stripped of all of the masks, layers, shells, and coverings behind which we often hide behind.

I’m reminded of a visit to a masseuse in Slovakia many years ago. As she dug into my calf muscle, nearly causing me to break out in a cold sweat, she asked, “Does that hurt?”

I grunted an affirmation with a head nod and said, “But it’s a good hurt.” Because I knew that the result of the pain from the massage would be less pain in the days to come.

I’m pretty confident that these “transition blues“ are a ”good hurt.“ At least, I HOPE so! ;-)