Season of Transition
by Stefanie Zizzo
Career and Life Coach
Today the skies are gray and the trees bare,
waiting patiently for the buds to form and once again grow beautiful
leaves. The ground is barren on the surface, but beneath the soil new
growth is waiting for its time to break free of dormancy, spring forth
from the ground and bloom.
I see this time as a period of rest, reflection and
hibernation with the knowledge that soon there will be an awakening of
a new period of growth and possibility. Though I admit there are many
moments where it cannot come fast enough for me and sometimes in those
moments of gray and cold I feel like spring will never come. But it
always does.
When we are mourning a deep loss it feels as if we
are in a similar place. We feel bleak, cold, barren, and gray. We find
ourselves wishing these terrible feelings of loss would hurry up and
go away so we can once again feel warmth. Or maybe we feel we are
frozen in place, never again to see the light shine in our hearts
again.
We become so wrapped up in our experience of what
we see, think and feel that we forget the other seasons are coming.
They always do, every time. Yet we cannot rush nature. If we are aware
of and connected to our individual natural rhythms, our personal
expression of grief, we can choose to honor that and know that we too
are still growing beneath the surface.
Nature is consistently in transition and so are we.
We all go through cycles of change that correspond to what is going on
in our lives – those cycles are more profound when grieving. These
cycles of change include periods of uncertainly of direction,
reflection and discovery, exploring and planning, action and success.
Our own seeds of change and growth are always
there, sometimes buried deep, sometimes right below the surface
waiting to sprout. We just have to plant them, nourish them, believe
in them, and have the patience to let them grow strong and emerge in
our own time.
A personal season of transition….
In the fall of 1996 my parents moved from our
hometown in New York (where I still lived) to Florida. This loss was
the first I had felt so totally. Yes, my parents were still here on
this earth – something everyone who could not understand my grief kept
telling me – but for me it felt so final – they were gone physically
from my daily life. You see I was only 29 at the time and especially
close with my mother, so much so that I considered her my best friend.
Though I was newly married and had just moved into my first home, my
husband worked nights so my mother and I enjoyed decorating my home
together, shopping and just talking. When they moved, I felt so empty,
so deeply sad and not sure what to do with myself, much more so than I
anticipated I would feel. I thought I was prepared for it, I wasn’t.
My season of transition – actually transformation – began a few months
later when I began seeking new friendships and more importantly
starting a friendship with myself. I grew up that year, making more of
my own decisions (without seeking advice from mom) about how I wanted
my first home to look and feel, how I was growing in my new career and
testing my own abilities as a creative person with ideas and talents
of my own. It was eye opening how much I had relied on her for all of
these things – and exciting to see new talents and strength budding
within me. I realized later that all of these talents and abilities
were already there under the surface but I had never given them the
space to grow. My experience of loss forced me to look deeper into
myself than I ever had before and I was pleased and somewhat surprised
by what I found.
To help you grow…
What season or cycle are you in right now?
What lies dormant deep within you, just waiting for the time to
break free?
What nourishment are you providing yourself for your inner
growth?
What does your garden, your field, your forest, look like in full
bloom?
When you can see the possibilities and trust that they will come,
you will have the patience to let it happen just as winter turns to
spring, always, every time.
