Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Marking significant transitions.

I love celebrating stuff, I really do.  But I think that taking the time to mark and honor significant transitions in life goes beyond mere celebration.  There are times in our lives that are turning points, places where our lives change, and in a way this changes who we are.  Some of these transitions are fairly universal and some are deeply personal, but I feel like all need to be recognized.

As a people, we have drawn away from honoring transition points in our lives.  Children aren't taught the mysteries as they become adults.  Young people aren't shown how to adapt to married life, nor told the stories of other married people before they begin their new lives.  Even death isn't explored for it's role in our lives, simply as an ending to someone else's.

But all these things form us, they shape us, and they influence who we are in the way that we respond to them.  When we do mark transitions, it is often through hollow ceremony, and the deeper meaning of why this particular transition is important is glossed over.

My life is a mess of transitions at the moment.  I am about to turn 40, which for me is sort of a benchmark of middle age.  My son is graduating high school and starting college (which is his transition...but also means I will no longer truly be the mother of the household).   This in turn changes the dynamic of the relationship between hubby and I.   I am really starting to come into my own in terms of writing.

Even in my auxiliary life, my in-laws moved away this year, so I am no longer fulfilling the caretaker role that I was.  My parents have moved to a retirement community, so their role in my life is changing. 

But out of all of those transitions, only one is actually honored (my birthday) in our society, and not in a deeper way (it's just one more year...right).  I think that we owe it to ourselves to really explore what these transitions mean in our life, and how we are moving through them.

There are a lot of questions to ask yourself, as you hit a major transition.  What does this mean to me?  How has this manifested in my life until now?  What will change because of this?  How do I move forward?  What do I need to leave behind?  What am I afraid to let go of?  What do I wish could have been different.

We all have expectations of what life is going to be, and often life likes to throw us for a loop.  We may get something so out of our expectations that we don't know how to respond.  Or, we might get exactly what we wished for, only to find out it isn't what we thought it would be.

If we take the time to work through our transitions, we will find ourselves better able to react to whatever comes our way.  Transitions aren't easy, and you will find yourself torn down before you build yourself back up.  Each transition you face is the death of a part of you, often a part that you felt was a core part of your identity.

I have been a mother for essentially my entire adult life.  We had our son young, so while we did live on our own, for a short time before we became parents, I wouldn't consider us adults at the time (I think both of us sort of slid into adulthood, without any kind of proper transition there either).  I'm not sure I know who I am, as an adult who is a not a mother (of course, I'll always be a mother, just not in a mother-role).

I'm not concerned about aging, not really.  But, I haven't made that mental switch yet.  Technically, most days, my mental self is closer to early 20's than late 30's.  I have grey hair, which I kind of like.  That is one thing I definitely have never concerned myself with (I want to dye it eventually, but not to a normal color....my hair is dark, I'm hoping if enough of it goes grey, I can do neat things with bright colors like blue or purple!)  I really don't care about other people thinking I'm old..I can't wait to get senior discounts (which is still a ways off).

I do think I probably need to start thinking more my age though, and being more mindful that my body is no longer the body of a 20 year old, and might need more care...or at least different care.  And this is something I think we miss, by not having these kinds of societal transitions.

We don't get to benefit from the wisdom of our elders or our peers.  We don't hear the stories, or get the advice from people who are were we are going.  We don't have support for when we feel like we are failing.

I felt this very strongly when my son was young.  We had very minimal information about being parents, and most of what we did know came from books.  The nurses at the hospital taught us the very basic mechanics of how to take care of our newborn infant, but then we were home, and mostly on our own.  Hubby's parents lived close, but that was pretty much it, for family.  We never made a lot of young parent friends, and we learned the hard way, through trial and error.

I'm a bit of a romantic about things like that.  I dream about a society that builds communities, to help support each other, throughout all of life.  In my mind, we would have welcoming and honoring rituals for everything!  I am seeing more and more people embracing this mentality with birthing parties and first blood celebrations, and it warms my heart.

I think we can build our own rituals, with our friends and family, if we have people in our lives who at the very least respect our needs for deeper spiritual connection with our transitions.  But even if we don't have anyone else besides ourselves, we can take some time to honor these transitions on our own.

I will be honoring my turning of the wheel in a few days, and I haven't really celebrated my birthday for myself.  I will be doing some sort of ritual (possibly with sacred art) to mark my exit from the mothering role.  I am still working through some of my other transitions, but I have no doubt I'll find some way to mark their passage as well.


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