Embracing Change

I remember when my son was half-way through pre-kindergarten. With tears streaming down his face, he clung to me in fear one night at bedtime. When I asked him what was wrong, he explained he didn't want to go to kindergarten the next school year. He shared that he was afraid he wouldn't be ready. I tried to explain to him that when the time came, he would be ready. He still had a lot of time before then.


My words of comfort and reassurance were met with his explosive was met with his explosive sob, "Nooo, I won't!"

So often, we - like my young son - fight changes we cannot halt. We make our journey more stressful and less enjoyable than it need be. When I have found myself struggling to accept the shifts that are a part of life, I have found the following helpful.

Calm Your Mind

I don't know about you, but when I first encounter a major change, my mind is racing. "How am I going to get through this?" "What am I going to do?" "I like things the way the are! Why does it have to change?" Only a few of the thoughts that can be find tearing up the race course of your mind.

You will have to calm my mind - the sense of panic and impending doom. Deep breathing exercises and walks in nature are often a good place to start the process. Then start looking through your past, reviewing all the times you have successfully navigated other transitions. Much like the process I shared in Building Triumph from Triumph. 

Gradually, the fear, the panic subside and you can start working through the process.

Determine Your Ability to Control

When change comes into our lives uninvited, one of the biggest things I wrestle with is the lack of control I feel. Over time, I have learned that nothing is completely out of my control. Understanding the Spheres of Control, helps break the situation down so I can see how I can affect some control.

First, take a look at what things in the situation are under your control.

For example, when I was struggling with the fact that I was suddenly a single mother, I found there was plenty I could control. My choices dictated how my money was spent. I could control where we lived. I determined who my son and I befriended.

Next, figure out what you can influence.

I can't control when my son sees his father or how much he sees him; however, I can influence the situation. I can't dictate the terms of our divorce, but I can influence the outcome by advocating for myself and what I feel to be in my son's best interest.

Finally, look at what you can't control or influence. One of the biggest pieces of the equation I couldn't control was my ex-husband. His behaviors and attitudes were completely under his own control. These I had to let go of.

Take It A Step at A Time

Once you know what you can control or influence, start breaking it to a step-by-step course of action. Start with those things that you control and then move on to those things you can influence.

One of the biggest acts of reclaiming my control was to sit down with my son and created a spending plan. Our plan ensured our bills were payed and built in some room for play. We experienced a huge triumph when we saved up and were able to take a weekend trip to the Oregon beach.

Embrace the Change

I know this own is easier said than done, but it is possible. Every change has silver linings, start by looking for them. The ones you notice at first will most likely be small. Just make sure to acknowledge them and keep looking for the good.

When we first moved into our own apartment, I was terrified. I didn't know what would happen next. And I knew that just after leaving is when a victim of domestic violence is at the highest risk. Gradually I began to feel a sense of freedom. When ever I doubted I had made the right choice, I would get in touch with those feelings and bask in that wonderful, hard earned freedom. Now, three years out, I would have to say that becoming a single mother has been one of the best things to happen. Not just for me, but also for my son.


My son is now in the seventh grade. And over the years, these battles have become less intense and fewer in number. He is learning to to trust himself. He's built a track record of successfully navigating change. A few weeks ago, he gleefully shared with me how he's looking forward to going into high school in two years. My son has learned to embrace change.

Finding Joy in the Journey

It was 6:30 in the morning. The alarm had just gone off and Lila, my miniature pinscher mix, was enthusiastically licking my face. How can anyone be this cheerful first thing in the morning? I groggily rolled over and drug myself out of bed.

Time to take Lila for her morning walk. We walk the same trail every morning. She gets what she needs while I wake up and drink my obligatory water. For me it's a duty. For Lila it's a new adventure everyday. She darts here and there sniffing every blade of grass. And then tangling me up in the leash as she bounds back to me in ecstatic joy.

However this morning was different. Stepping out on the nature walk behind my apartment, right off the bat, a large tree caught my eye. It was old and a large limb had broken away exposing burrows and holes that had been created by insects. The pattern in the wood was fascinating.


A little past the tree, I saw beautiful blue-purple shooting-star flowers basking in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves of the trees overhead.

Next I spotted the red clover, flooding me with memories of my sister and I plucking the petals to taste the sweetness of the nectar. A summer time treat that made us giggle.

There was a patch of Queen Anne's Lace that made me smile as I remembered using them to pretend to be a princess when I was a little girl.

And a clearing, where if you used your imagination, you could picture woodland fairies dancing under a full moon.

I had never noticed how many of my neighbors grew lavender in their yards. Or the little path that lead up from the sidewalk to the street that dead ended right before it.

So much beauty. Such wonder. Many fond memories. All were just waiting for me to find.

I realized that so often I just go through life. Fighting to survive. Doing my duty. I am so taken up with all that I have to do that I don't notice the joy that is all around me.

Even during the dark patches on life's trail, there is joy to be found. When my son and I had moved into our

own place, things were stressful and chaotic. I wasn't always sure how we would get by - pay the rent - keep the lights on - put food on the table. Even in that turmoil there was joy to be found.

I can't express how it felt when I realized that for the first time in years my son hadn't had a nightmare in weeks. Or we sat down together to figure out a budget to give us financial stability. Or we started to build friendships that would grow into a network of support and eventually into family.

Right before Lila and I reached the driveway to our complex, I noticed a single, simple Morning Glory stretching towards the sun. Somehow it had grown in a hedge - alone, not surrounded by its own kind. Yet despite its isolation, it was determined to find the joy.

We may not always be able to choose the circumstances of our journey. Not given the chance to choose the path we must walk. But we do get to choose how we travel the road. We can choose to focus on the things that bring us down. We can look only at the list of responsibilities and duties we must check-off along the way. Or we can choose to find the joy and enjoy the journey.

#joy, #choice, #journey

Guilt and Blame

When things go wrong in my life, I find myself looking for someone to blame. Often this takes place under the guise of determining who should be held accountable, who should accept responsibility for the results. When I find I am to blame, I find myself in the land of guilt, wallowing in the mire of should haves and shouldn't haves. Not much else happens here. Just as I pull one foot out, I lose my balance and tumble back into the muck.

I question the value of guilt and blame and don't see the connection between those two concepts and responsibility. When I accept responsibility for my life, I'm not saying I am to blame for the situations that might at first blush be seen as setbacks or negative events. My focus shifts from whom to blame or how guilty should I feel to how do I want this event to shape my future. I make proactive choices to sculpt the destiny I want.

My life is perfect in its imperfection and every tragedy, every sorrow, every bump and bruise can become a part of the beautiful mosaic that is my life if I so choose.

#guilt, #blame, #responsibility

Hiking into the Darkness

Photo by Asaiah Brazile

A few weeks ago, my son and I found ourselves staring down 150 stairs into the mouth of the Lava River Cave. We stood there staring into the darkness with just a single propane lantern as we prepared to hike one mile into the earth. I'll have to admit that despite the fact that the whole expedition had been my idea, I felt more than just a little trepidation.

Despite the anxious feelings and the fact that the stairs didn't look incredibly stable. We headed into the dark. I tried to reassure myself. I love to walk and have walked farther than a mile. It can't be that bad. We have a lamp with us; what could go wrong?

As my eyes tried to cut the darkness to see what lay ahead of us, it seemed like our lantern wasn't helping to illuminate even one step ahead of us. Some of the steps were well worn wooden steps. Some were metal mesh that allowed a glimps into the depths below. The handrail wobbled as I griped it, heading deeper into the caves. With each step I fought back tears of fear.

A deep sense of relief overwhelmed me as my son and I reached the cave floor. The lantern still barely lit the step in front of us, but we were off of the stairs. As we moved ahead, we were amazed at how perfectly round the cave was. It was as if a machine had hollowed out the lava tube. I was lulled into thinking the rest of the hike would be easy-peasy; thirty minutes tops and we would be back in the sunshine enjoying a picnic lunch.

Our eyes began to adjust to the darkness Our lamp seemed to putting out more light than it had been. We

Photo by Asaiah Brazile

could see the beauty around us. Moisture ran down the walls. Here and there, the water pooled into little puddles. Sand filled the cracks between the rocks on the floor of the cave.

We walked farther and farther into the cave. Sometimes our foot slipped on the uneven floor. Around bends, through narrow passages, occasionally having to walk stooped over to move ahead. Often we were all alone, no other hiking parties's lights in view. No other human voices bouncing off of the cave walls.

It was a very long one mile hike. More than once my son, his voice quivering in fear, begged to turn around and end our adventure. It took some cajoling to convince him to continue. A couple of times, I had to sing silly songs just to distract him.

When we reached the sand gardens, we thought we were almost to the end only to have to go around more turns and twists to follow.

Photo by Asaiah Brazile

As we continued the distance between the floor of the cave and the ceiling narrowed. And we found ourselves at the end. There was such elation. We had conquered our fears, our doubts and the darkness of the cave! We celebrated with a selfie.

We turned to head back. We found the trail back to the stairs was much steeper than it had seemed when we were hiking in.

There were times when I found myself out of breath. As I struggled to catch my breath, I found myself fearing I would have and asthma attack.

We had no way of knowing how much fuel our lantern still had. It had taken at least an hour to reach the end of the cave. I hoped we would make it back before we were enveloped in total darkness. If our lamp went out, how would we get back to the surface?

Our leg were tired. And our stomachs growled loudly with hunger. Finally we reached the bottom of the steps to the surface. I dreaded climbing the steps. One hundred and fifty steps to reach the sunlight. One hundred and fifty steps to left my weary steps. One hundred and fifty steps until it was all over. I could see the light.

Photo by Asaiah Brazile

Reflecting back now, I recognize five important lessons that can help when facing a transition.

1. Feel the emotions that the process brings up; just don't let it stop your forward movement. For me the emotions of fear were strongest going down the stairs.  I even considered turning back before reaching the bottom. I allowed myself to feel the fear, but kept going anyway.
2. Give your eyes time to adjust. When we entered the darkness of the cave, it took our eyes time to adjust to the deep darkness. Similarly, when we enter a new situation, it takes our hearts and mind a bit of time to catch up to our new reality. Things are no longer the way we expect them to be. We feel like we're walking in bleak utter darkness. With time, if we let it, our perspective will shift and we can begin to see the beauty - all be it different beauty - in our new surroundings.
3. Don't let other's feelings of doubt and fear hold you back. Had I followed my son's urging, we would have never reached the sign that says, "Go no further." We would have missed seeing a lot of wonderful things created by Mother Nature.
4. Trust yourself, your well of resources is much deeper than you think. There were moments during that hike when I didn't think we would make it out. Pushing forward, I learned I had more strength and courage than I realized.
5. Prepare ahead of time. I didn't have any concept how physically intense the hike would be. I headed into the cave without my asthma inhaler. The middle of a transition is not the place where you want to be trying to establish routines that nourish and sustain you. Establish and maintain rituals and create support networks before you ever need them.

Like many of the difficult changes I've gone through in my life, I wouldn't trade my hike into the darkness for anything.

#change, #transition, #choice

Walking into the Stormy Sea of Transition

Stormy Sea by Alexlinde on deviantART

Transitions great and small are a part of our lives. And what may seem insurmountable today may well look insignificant tomorrow.

For my son, halfway through pre-K, the transition to kindergarten was the most terrifying thing he could imagine. He did not possess a frame of reference that would allow him to understand that in a few short months, he would be ready for that change. All he knew was that he was being asked to walk into the raging, boundlessness of the ocean. He had no way to know if the waters would part and he would walk across on dry land or if he would rise above the waves to walk on top. He saw waves. Big, powerful, swallow-you-up waves. And he was expected to walk into them and potentially drown.

Likewise, when I took my son and left an abusive marriage, I had no window into the future. I had no way to imagine a life with emotional security or financial stability. While I kept looking at the past and focusing on the parts of it I dreaded giving up, I knew I didn't like the alternative I was facing. And so, like my son, I choose to walk into the tumultuous, stormy sea.

There were dark days when it felt like the riptide would pull me under. There were days when the storm was less intense and I could float and bask in the sense of personal safety that was now a part of my life. 

As the days past, there was no magical parting of the waters. There was no abracadabra moment where I found myself walking on top of the waves. I needed to build my own raft. I had to make choices that allowed me to move from struggling, to surviving, to eventually thriving.

The choices you are facing as you work to build your own raft may very well be different. And while it most likely doesn't feel like you are wise enough or smart enough, trust that you are. 

Start by figuring out what you need most to begin to calm the storm. For me, I realized that if I was to maintain my independence, I needed to solidify my finances. I had a job, but I didn't have a spending plan and found that I kept running short. I sat down with my son, who was ten at the time, and created a plan. Having him play a role in the process ended up being a major part of our success.

Just taking one step will create a buoy to help keep you a float and start to shift the control back to you. So what is that first step for you? 

#change, #transitions, #choice