We talked about why this has been such a different transition in my life. Why it's been so hard. There's lots of reasons that I am sure I'll unearth eventually, but something that really stuck out to me was the fact that I don't know what I am transitioning to.
Someone told me that every year in your twenties - and especially your late twenties is a massive life adjustment. This seemed irrational and unlikely when I heard it but I am a (begrudging) living testament to its truth. However, the seasons of transition have typically been a byproduct of natural circumstance. Graduating school. A change in job. A move. A change in church. Something like that. But there isn't anything changing so drastically in this season of life, so the transition feel jarring and unwarranted. Unless there is something that is going to change and this is a premature sense that I have. If that's the case then hell yes, I'm a prophet.
It's more likely that this is just life, though, and that I need to accept it and move on.
I also realized that I usually am very excited for whatever is on the other side, what awaits. The journey is certainly more delightful when the destination is clear and good, right? This is a good thing because I don't feel dissatisfied in the period of transition, but I also am learning it could be a bad thing because how I am quick and very much on to the next in a way that could be hurtful to those in my wake. This has always been something I've felt a tinge of guilt about. But not enough guilt to prevent me from doing it again I guess...does that make me a bad person? Maybe this looming unrest is karma for the way I have treated friends in the past. Yikes.
Truthfully, it feels a bit petty to offer an excuse - but it is 100% self-defense, for what it's worth. In pretty much every area of life I try to be the first one out. I would rather live with the guilt of hurting someone or battle the internal dialogue of "was that the right decision?" than sit with the pain of being rejected or forgotten.
It's strange though, because I can't really recall a specific time where I was rejected or forgotten in such a traumatic way that would cause me to have this incessant need to protect myself from these experiences, but that makes me think this is just the result of me being a human who feels things and doesn't like to feel, well, rejected or forgotten.
I'm aiming to be better this time around about intentionally communicating and not just disappearing, but because I am honest I'll tell you that's hard. It's easier to just pull away and move on and call it a day. There are some people in my life that I have just considered cutting my losses and just forgetting about because like I said, I have learned to live with that guilt or just bailing on a friendship. But I am trying to fight this urge and put in the work because I think that is what a decent human ought to do, and I have to be vulnerable and stand in the mess of transition, no matter how uncomfortable it is.
I digress from the original point of this whole thing, transition.
It feels like I'm on one of those moving sidewalks at the airport, but I can't see what is on the other side. I can't stop moving, and it's futile to try and fight the motion. Or even in the grips of rush hour traffic that flies by so quickly, if you blink you'd miss it entirely. So I have to charge on, and hope that I'm journeying toward a destination better than I could have imagined.
Clarity is not a reality, but I never was promised that, so I guess I can't be mad. Sometimes a blurry, out of focus image is all we get. And we work with that. We don't get to press pause or rewind or fast-forward. We just get to be. I accept that I can't control what's next. If anything is next.
I hope something is next.