Many readers of Next-Wave have gone through, or are going through, significant transitions. I recently moved from Yorba Linda, California (which meant leaving was comfort, my extended family and our community of faith) to Eagle, Idaho.  I moved to continue working for Allelon. Allelon is a fellowship of church communities we have been journeying with into a better understanding of the Christian Story in order to become missional people and communities of faith. Or, as we like to say, quoting Barth, understanding our Story ”for the sake of the world”.

Realizing the potential for upset this transition had for my immediate family, I decided to do a little reading. I came across the work of a man called William Bridges. His book, Transitions, is well known (250,000+ in print) in some circles, but was a gift,  new find to me. Bridges’ work is a solid guide to transitions. At the request of my friend Charlie Wear, the publisher of Next-Wave, I am glad to share some of my discoveries with you, my fellow journey-women and journey-men.

Transitions Begin with an Ending

Marriage is the end of singleness; a promotion is the end of a former job—and the routines and relationships that went along with it. Transitions begin with an ending; this is why they stink, feel so bad. Transitions require genuine grief. You are not crazy—well you might be—but not for feeling the blues and blahs inherent in pursuing something that seems as exciting (why would I be depressed about that?) as your dream of a new life of faithful followership of Jesus and leadership in his name.

We have to let go of the old thing before we can pick up the new—not just outwardly, but inwardly, where we keep our connections to the people and places that act as definers of who we are. Even positive changes (being accepted to the school of your choice or having a baby) produce these unexpected losses because to an extent that we seldom realize, we identify ourselves with the circumstances of our lives (a topic worthy of it’s own article. I’d love to hear the thoughts of a philosopher or sociologist here…).

Endings involve disengagement; they break apart social ties. It is hard to imagine life and identity apart from these knowns. But, this is usually the path to real development (in contrast to mere tweaking).

Endings bring on dis-identification: In transition, we lose ways of self-definition. It feels like the end of me. We experience the feeling of “I’m not sure who I am any more”. I was a __________ (vocation, role, etc.), but in this new reality I don’t yet own an identity. No longer “being a young person” or “being near the person in power” can be source of panic. But, trying to hang on to old identities stand in the way of transformation and personal growth.

Disenchantment is also part of transitions. We carry around in us a picture of “the way things are”; an enchanted view. Once this is dis-enchanted, we are left, in a process like gestation or farming, to wait for something new to be born.

We tend to view personal growth as purely an additive process, one that means gaining stuff, never loss. But to grow and change, we must confront the part of our old reality that “was only in our head”—and lose it. The perfect spouse, child, job or church never did exist. We created them as an inner cast of characters and then looked for someone to play the parts.

These and other misperceptions are the “enchantments” that must be “dissed” or recognized as “sufficient for the old reality”, but insufficient now. Maybe we really did need to believe that “people are always trustworthy”, etc., because it protected us in our immaturity. But with real growth comes truer perception that can be tolerated with mature Christian peace. Dissing our enchantments is far better than switching spouses, rejecting children or destroying the career of a colleague.

Last, disorientation visits most people during transitions. The reality that is left behind in any ending was not just a mirage; some of it was real. To be out of that reality, but to have no clear sense of, or un-failing plan for, the future is disorienting. It leaves us feeling confused and empty, stuck or lost in a non-world. The familiar ways through which we structured our time and space are gone and nothing new has come forward to replace them. This is a meaningful, but un-enjoyable time.

During an ending, the desire for repetition of the old (in an effort to avoid the developmental thrust involved in transitions) is a key temptation to be avoided. It aborts the process of learning a new way of being in the world. Before we can find a new something, we must deal with a time of nothing.

No new time of life is possible without the death of the old season. To gain, you must first give up. An ending clears the ground for a new beginning. The ending of an outward situation thrusts us into a season in which we process its implications--this can seem like “hell” as we go down before we go up. We let go of an old way of being before picking up a new one. We then we begin to act—even when the tasks seem impossible--knowing that the Spirit will meet us “there”; in that place where we have run out of our own resources.

New Beginnings come after passing through The Neutral Zone

Bridges calls this time of nothing the neutral zone. It is the in-between time before the new beginning takes shape. The neutral zone and new beginning phases of transition are worthy of significant discussion. However, I just clicked my tool bar and discovered I am out of words for this article. If you found it helpful and would like to read more, you could always get the book or bombard Charlie with emails (“popular demand”) and maybe he would commission me to write a follow-up article. J

As with all people after important life transitions, we are going to be different people when our transitions are over.

See you on the other side!