Midlife Is When Change Hits You from Every Direction

I stepped outside my door this morning, and the air felt crisper and smelled like change. If I looked hard, I could see the ends of the first leaves starting to turn, moving from dark green to amber and yellow.

Nature is often a few steps ahead of us, telling us what will happen next. Change is coming for me. I can feel it in the air.

Like the onset of autumn, sometimes life happens to us. Children grow up. People get sick. We are forced to seek new opportunities in new locations outside of our comfort zones and away from our familiar settings.

I’m working on reconciling these emotions, this new direction my life is taking. I’m trying to control what I can and let go of what I can’t.

It’s just different from what I anticipated.

People tell me I should be excited about all the change that's happened for me over the last year—moving, evolving my business, and starting new things—but the truth is, I find it both exhilarating and exhausting depending upon the day. I’m learning to live in the in-between of overwhelm and micro-bursts of joy; constant chaos and choosing peace; extreme moments of exasperation and reminders of gratitude.

The world is changing at rapid pace. We are seeing both the best and the worst of humanity. We see progress and regression. We see hope and darkness. I want to both scream and pull the covers up above my head. And just as I think nothing could get worse, it does, and yet, almost simultaneously, I see a kindness so big and bountiful that it replenishes my soul again.

Just as one season transitions to another, we can’t stop the changes that happen to us. We can’t stop experiencing the empty nest or menopause or job changes. We can’t stop what other people do or all the injustices of the world or the things we must do to get by in this chaotic world.

But we can control how we react, how we respond, how we renew ourselves each day. We can set the standard for how we treat people, how we offer grace, how we choose to lead. We can carve out new relationships while maintaining old ones in new ways.

My goal has always been to keep change to a minimum so I can continue to survive, but this season, my goal is to thrive—maybe not every day, but over time.

I’m working on reconciling these emotions that come with so much change. I’m working on taking care of myself while taking care of others. I’ve recognized it’s not something I can do quickly or with ease. I’m not a fan of chaos. It’s a challenging environment for me, and I often struggle with keeping my anxiety at bay during it.

So, I’ve stopped listening to what people, social media, and the world keep shouting at me, and started letting myself feel it all. I’m letting the change take its course instead of fighting it.

I’m allowing myself to turn like the leaves on the trees. And sometimes I will pop with color and sometimes I will fade off into the background and sometimes I will let things fall away so I can grow anew.

I’m softer and harder. More open and yet setting more boundaries. I’m expanding my worldview while limiting who I share my life with at times. I’m letting go while holding on.

I’m feeling grief for what was and gratitude for what is. I feel sad about leaving the people I deeply care about and hope for what I can build. I dread my to-do list, yet I look forward to carving out a new way of life. I miss my kids with a pain that always shocks my soul, and yet I’m embracing my new relationship with them.

I’m moving in every direction while also figuring out what roots to keep uncut. I’m feeling every emotion.

I’m turning. Color, direction, emotions.

And while it is exhausting and scary and tumultuous, it is also full of joy, hope, and love.

I’m turning.

I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Love hard.