Thursday, September 18, 2014

tomatoes and the art of transition...


“Life is a transition.” – Lailah Gifty Akita  

I just ate the last tomato sandwich of the season. Either bugs or blight or both took out my tomato plants, so I pulled them up yesterday. As sweaty and grouchy as I get in the last heat of the summer, it’s always a bit sad when the garden starts to fail and die. But then, I struggle with transition.  

It’s not the major transitions that get to me. I went from high school to college, college to work, single to married, married to motherhood, motherhood to empty nest with relative ease. Those were transitions I chose, prepared and planned for.

It's the unexpected transitions and the small, frequent transitions – the ones I have no control over - that challenge me. It’s reasonable to get a bit panicked by things like “now my husband's out of work" or "my daughter has to have appendix surgery - today." With pause, think, breathe and make a plan, I have coped with these. But I have to focus and breathe even more calmly when something like the car won't start or the plumbing gets clogged or a pet gets sick happens. Why?

Transition is the constant in every day. We move from sleep to dream, dream to awake; home to work, work to home, busy to resting; still to active; and so on…And, on any given day, we are parents, children, siblings and spouses; caretakers, caregivers, alone and with others. We move between worker and supervisor, teacher and learner. Then there are the emotional transitions - strong to weak, energetic to tired, happy to sad, bored to fulfilled, needed to needy, aware to oblivious – the shifts go on and on…  

One of my problems with transition has to do with being a perfectionist. If things aren’t just right then they’re not right at all and keeping the bar set that high results in trouble shifting gears. When I was busy being the perfect worker, I worked longer and harder than my family preferred. Yet, in order to meet my personal standards as a mother, I never truly focused on work. The same goes for housework and yard work and life's other details. As long as perfect is what I'm striving for, I am destined to fail. Add to that, the unease that comes with not being in control and unexpected transitions become a big deal. 

Over time I have learned that striving for balance and embracing compromise help me transition more easily. It also helps to not be so hard on myself. Chaos happens and, it turns out, a little imperfection is just fine. It’s easier to move through the day, as well as life changes, if you take things one step at a time, rather than let the big picture loom so large that you become paralyzed.  

I used to see everything that challenged me as a struggle, but the more I embrace (and remind myself to embrace) the idea that all I really have to do is simply keep moving from transition to transition, the less of a requirement struggling is.

Unexpected things happen, as do predicted things like the end of tomato season. Transition is the bridge that moves us between and through. If I simply remember to pause, think, breathe and make a plan that embraces the inevitable imperfection that life brings, I can better deal with transitions big and small. After all, the end of tomato season signals the beginning of fall, which means a whole new set of plants to plant and pleasures to enjoy.  

 

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