There came a time recently where I had to put on my “Big Girl Panties,” and toughen myself up to what was. To remember this place and time is “For Now.” It is not permanent. My situation will improve. I had to put on my riding boots and dig in deep to the emotions that fueled my pain while I slid into the saddle and hung on for a wild ride. That “Wild Ride” was around the recent changes I had made in my life. Not just any little change, like the color of my nail polish, but significant change that brought me to a place of liminality. That place where the waters are dark and murky and the unknown is looming around the corner. That place where the uncertainty lies. That place where courage is needed to survive the transition. It was also important to remind myself that it is okay to cry, to stomp my feet, to scream at the heavens, “what did I do to myself.”

I also knew I needed to ask myself better questions. Questions like, how can I make this better? What am I grateful for at this moment in time, for today? What can I do now to relieve the pain? What actions can I take to move myself to a place of feeling like I belong? I also knew time would ease the pain, would take away the uncertainty, and my ability to manifest what I wanted was strong. I just had to tap into that and trust the process. It was not the first time I had moved and made a career change within my field. It was not the first time I felt the loneliness, the sadness, the longing for family, friends, and all things familiar. All those people and places that brought certainty to my life were in another part of the state. I was in the process of shedding the old and trying on the new.

Boy, was I trying on the new! I dove in deep into the new job, so much so that I worked endlessly. It was easy to do because I had no one to go home with or for. I did not want to go home and sit all alone and feel my pain. The busier I stayed, the more present I was while at work, the less I felt uncertainty.

I have completed my seventh week on this journey, and thankfully, I have great friends that have been helping me find my courage when I could not muster the strength to do so myself. They held me up. My friends and mom reminded me of why I chose the decisions I made and let me cry when I felt the need. It was not their job to fix it for me, to make it better, but to support the pain, the process of moving through the murky waters that were laid out before me. They bolstered me and helped my travel through those murky waters and come out feeling better on the other side.

I liken all of this transition much to running a marathon. You start out running three miles, then five, and before you know it you are running ten miles. Ten miles that you never dreamed you could do and those miles become part of your weekly routine. Next thing you know you are running the next toughest distance of fifteen and then eighteen. The final training run is twenty-one miles; the cut off just before the race. Then race day comes, and you push through those last 5.2 miles. Victory, you cross the finish line with arms extended to the sky, a smile on your face, an announcer calling out your bib number and name, and the greeter on the other side of the finish line telling you, great job, you did it, you are all done. It is a sweet feeling of accomplishment. A job well done. All that hard work paid off; you made it. Next, comes recovery and the setting of yet another goal. What race will I run next? What dream will I realize? What do I want next in life? Knowing what our outcome will lead us to the next victory!

Running a marathon is a “Rite of Passage.” It is a place where transformation happens. You relinquish control and run through murky waters, uncertain if you can achieve the final victory but holding a belief that you can execute the race. It is where you have to put on the game face, and tough it out knowing the only thing you can control is putting in the training miles.

Preparing for a marathon is a time where you must stick with the program, run the training miles, gather a tribe of like-minded people around you, and persevere. The transition from being a novice runner to joining the ranks of those that have gone before requires your dedication and strength to make it across the finish line.

So, seven weeks into this transformational time, I am the one who sets the pace and holds the key to victory. It is not always easy to let go of control, to trust the process, to trust in God, the Universe, to believe that God has my back and that I will make it across the finish line. There is no promise that it will not hurt, that I will not suffer some along the way, there is no promise that tomorrow will be even better. However, there is the promise that each day I find something to be grateful for it will make it that much easier to cross the finish line; I will have been victorious in accomplishing what I set out to do.

Boy, was I trying on the new! I dove in deep into the new job, so much so that I worked endlessly. It was easy to do because I had no one to go home with or for. I did not want to go home and sit all alone and feel my pain. The busier I stayed, the more present I was while at work, the less I felt uncertainty.

I have completed my seventh week on this journey, and thankfully, I have great friends that have been helping me find my courage when I could not muster the strength to do so myself. They held me up. My friends and mom reminded me of why I chose the decisions I made and let me cry when I felt the need. It was not their job to fix it for me, to make it better, but to support the pain, the process of moving through the murky waters that were laid out before me. They bolstered me and helped my travel through those murky waters and come out feeling better on the other side.

I liken all of this transition much to running a marathon. You start out running three miles, then five, and before you know it you are running ten miles. Ten miles that you never dreamed you could do and those miles become part of your weekly routine. Next thing you know you are running the next toughest distance of fifteen and then eighteen. The final training run is twenty-one miles; the cut off just before the race. Then race day comes, and you push through those last 5.2 miles. Victory, you cross the finish line with arms extended to the sky, a smile on your face, an announcer calling out your bib number and name, and the greater on the other side of the finish line telling you, great job, you did it, you are all done. It is a sweet feeling of accomplishment. A job well was done. All that hard work paid off; you made it. Next, comes recovery and the setting of yet another goal. What race will I run next? What dream will I realize? What do I want next in life? Knowing what our outcome will lead us to the next victory!

Running a marathon is a “Right of Passage.” It is a place where transformation happens. You relinquish control and run through murky waters, uncertain if you can achieve the final victory but holding a belief that you can execute the race. It is where you have to put on the game face, and tough it out knowing the only thing you can control putting in the training miles.

Preparing for a marathon is a time where you must stick with the program, run the training miles, gather a tribe of like-minded people around you, and persevere. The transition from being a novice runner to joining the ranks of those that have gone before requires your dedication and strength to make it across the finish line.

So, seven weeks into this transformational time, I am the one who sets the pace and holds the key to victory. It is not always easy to let go of control, to trust the process, to trust in God, the Universe, to believe that God has my back and that I will make it across the finish line. There is no promise that it will not hurt, that I will not suffer some along the way, there is no promise that tomorrow will be even better. However, there is the promise that each day I find something to be grateful for and I will make it across that finish line; I will have been victorious in accomplishing what I set out to do.

Add Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *