The crashing recognition that major changes are occurring, comes the moment the wave breaks, but the wave still has some forward momentum until it’s stretched too thin and must retreat. What follows is the inevitable receding that can have a protracted quality, because it raises more questions than it answers as we draw inwards – back into wholeness – to recalibrate and rebuild momentum, for the next forward movement. Like ocean waves, major life transitions are marked by distinct phases which often feel formless and uncertain. In my practice, I often hear clients express frustration about feeling stuck. But what they’re really moving through is a stage of life that invites a period of introspection and self-examination that’s uncomfortable.
Our capacity to hold discomfort defines how big the next forward movement can become . . .
If we’re invested in asking the hardest questions, being really honest about what and just how much things in our lives aren’t serving us, and we’re willing to allow the process to take longer than likely makes us feel assured, then we’re expanding into answers that are in direct proportion to this inward stage. The impact of a major life transition is measured by the quality of ease, grace, and joy experienced on the other side. How expansive do you want the other side of inner growth to be?
I’ve moved through many major life transitions, so I’m well acquainted with the quality of this kind of time. The one I’m currently moving through is the biggest yet, so the questions being raised carry weight and demand honesty due to their existential nature.
Is it exhaustion or apathy?
I’ve sat with this question intimately over the last couple of months, but more importantly, I’ve sat inside this question. Meaning, how does this question resonate energetically inside my body? What does it feel like? Yes, there’s exhaustion, as I’ve been carrying the weight of single motherhood for 18 years. I’m physically spent and greedily consuming the rest and spaciousness of newfound solitude. But, as I sit inside the question, I’m aware that apathy is a kind of exhaustion: the end of a chapter or chapters that feel complete, the end of a self that feels too small, the end of outlets that no longer feel fulfilling. The stagnation of apathy informs us that the only way forward is a leap that must be taken, not because the next steps are clear, but because the ones behind us no longer serve the future.
Apathy breaks patterns. Time is reshaped by something deeper. Emotional thresholds carry momentum.
Apathy is a recalibration that is recognizable by a measure of inner silence. Like recovery from exhaustion, this is a sanctuary for the weary, not a threat to the future. It’s only in the quiet of silence that we move through discomfort into the receptivity to the quietest voice within. Most of us don’t know how to cultivate the kind of presence that hears the whispering of our soul. Major life transitions thwart us for precisely this reason: go within, listen attentively, move forward when there is a clarity that feels inspired to take action.
It’s important not to mistake apathy as a feeling of permanency. Apathy is best handled as a threshold that incites us to be curious and trust ourselves in new ways. This is a temporary state where the waves are informed by returning to wholeness, rather than taking up residency. Wholeness wants expression, so the next waves will inevitably form. I know those recalibration stages where the waiting for clarity feels so heavy and hard that it becomes its own kind of wounding. But, forward movement should be an expression of originality, rather than a form of reactivity from fear. When the tide is going out, we’re reclaiming parts of our Self that want outward expression, so we can leap.
Curiosity is inspiration.
The leap doesn’t need to be huge. It can be an incremental step into something that has stirred within, asking for a chance. This is action, no matter how small, from inspiration . . . will you listen? Will you leap?
It’s my purpose and joy to help you align with your purpose and joy! 💫 If you’re ready for a hand analysis reading, the deep inner work, or transformation coaching, you can book my services here. Wishing you all a lovely weekend ahead and the blessings of a joyful, aligned life!
With love from my whole being,
Lisa 💋❤️
P.S. Let’s GO Knicks!!! 🏀🎉❤️ I love basketball . . . ever since I started attending games with my dad as a kid. Although I’ve watched a disproportionate amount of soccer because of Benjamin’s playing, my son also loves basketball and it’s been a great joy attending Knicks games with him at Madison Square Garden. So, here’s to the playoffs: may the Knicks go all the way . . . it’s New York or nowhere, baby! 😎
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.