So much to reflect on in this piece. Like many others, my own transitions could fill a long yellow legal pad, bullet points spilling into notes scribbled in the margins. Interestingly, it wouldn’t include things like having children, getting married, or starting a job or business. Those feel well supported, even expected, by the world around me.
It’s the other transitions that linger. The ones few seem to understand and that are often met, at best, with silence and, at worst, with judgment. The moves to new places in search of growth and adventure. The loss of a job or a business. The quiet unraveling of identity that can happen in between.
Transitions are especially difficult when they go unnamed, like the patient you describe. There’s a lot here to sit with.
You and I have talked our way through many of these together. The distinction you're naming (the supported transitions and the unsupported ones) is the one I keep wishing the world handled more carefully. A lack of support occurs on a continuum, as you indicate. Maybe if we all could at least become more aware of what silence or not naming feels like to others, that could be a start.
I have felt that relief & validation with naming ambiguous losses. Finding people that can hold space gently with me has been a journey within my journey. I resonate with the physical reminders you describe. It will remind me to notice these more this week as a nudge to give attention to the unnamed uneases that I have a tendency to rush through or try to "fix".
I look forward to writing and reflecting more on all of this.
The physical reminders surprised me as I was writing them too. I started the run thinking about Radio Maine Live and ended it thinking about a house that had been quietly burning in my peripheral vision for weeks. The closed trail rerouted me past it. I’m interested to hear about what you find when you write and look forward to connecting with you about it soon. Great to see so much of you these past two weeks!
Thank you for so many things to ponder in this piece. Transitions and change can bring grief and fear, even if they are welcome changes. I thought about the burned-out house that you describe, and how unnerving that can be, even if no one was living there at the time. In Bath, there have been three very old, classic buildings that recently have been razed on Washington St. I can't help but wonder about the history of those spaces and the people who inhabited them.
We're living in times of tremendous change, and it often feels like it takes a huge effort to stay balanced in all the upheaval.
Jenn, it’s a lot to have three old Washington Street buildings be razed at one time, even when no one was living in them. I find myself wondering the same thing about who walked in and out of those rooms. I agree that welcome change can still bring loss, and the balance does seem hard to keep right now.
So much to reflect on in this piece. Like many others, my own transitions could fill a long yellow legal pad, bullet points spilling into notes scribbled in the margins. Interestingly, it wouldn’t include things like having children, getting married, or starting a job or business. Those feel well supported, even expected, by the world around me.
It’s the other transitions that linger. The ones few seem to understand and that are often met, at best, with silence and, at worst, with judgment. The moves to new places in search of growth and adventure. The loss of a job or a business. The quiet unraveling of identity that can happen in between.
Transitions are especially difficult when they go unnamed, like the patient you describe. There’s a lot here to sit with.
You and I have talked our way through many of these together. The distinction you're naming (the supported transitions and the unsupported ones) is the one I keep wishing the world handled more carefully. A lack of support occurs on a continuum, as you indicate. Maybe if we all could at least become more aware of what silence or not naming feels like to others, that could be a start.
I am I have experienced the relief that can comI
I have felt that relief & validation with naming ambiguous losses. Finding people that can hold space gently with me has been a journey within my journey. I resonate with the physical reminders you describe. It will remind me to notice these more this week as a nudge to give attention to the unnamed uneases that I have a tendency to rush through or try to "fix".
I look forward to writing and reflecting more on all of this.
The physical reminders surprised me as I was writing them too. I started the run thinking about Radio Maine Live and ended it thinking about a house that had been quietly burning in my peripheral vision for weeks. The closed trail rerouted me past it. I’m interested to hear about what you find when you write and look forward to connecting with you about it soon. Great to see so much of you these past two weeks!
Thank you for so many things to ponder in this piece. Transitions and change can bring grief and fear, even if they are welcome changes. I thought about the burned-out house that you describe, and how unnerving that can be, even if no one was living there at the time. In Bath, there have been three very old, classic buildings that recently have been razed on Washington St. I can't help but wonder about the history of those spaces and the people who inhabited them.
We're living in times of tremendous change, and it often feels like it takes a huge effort to stay balanced in all the upheaval.
Jenn, it’s a lot to have three old Washington Street buildings be razed at one time, even when no one was living in them. I find myself wondering the same thing about who walked in and out of those rooms. I agree that welcome change can still bring loss, and the balance does seem hard to keep right now.