On losing and gaining through constant change

For me, and for many others, it’s a time of change — again. Kids back in school. After-school activities opening back up. Routine. Autumn.

I recently spent some time reflecting back over the last few months. I’ve learnt that:

• change is constant
• wherever change is, there are losses and gains
• often in the losing, there’s a great sadness, even grief
• to grieve for something that’s lost is natural and normal and OK —there’s no shame in it
• where there’s great sadness or grieving, there must be recognition, acceptance, talking, sharing and heaps of self-care and self-compassion
• being in a position of privilege, or lack of greater suffering, doesn’t mean that your tough times, your pain, your losses are invalid or inconsequential
• you can hold at the same time both the grief of losing something AND an appreciation and gratitude for what you’ve gained — or the good things you still have

At the beginning of lockdown I wrote about how change is hard. Now, as a result of the last 6 months of change, I’m weary. Like many others, I’m longing for deep rest. Silence. Solitude. Sleep. Nature. Change and it’s associated loss and sadness has an impact.

Change often means gaining things too. My family of 4 gained time. Presence. Togetherness. Connection. Understanding. Joy. Laughter. I’m so thankful for that.

Changing jobs

I left Citizens Advice at the end of June. I chose to leave because I’d been there a long time and thought a new adventure would be a good thing. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. I invested much of myself into its work, its mission, its values. To wrench myself away was painful. It felt a bit like stepping off the edge of a cliff. It’s only recently that I’ve stopped asking myself the question ‘did I do the right thing?’ (in case you wonder, the answer is ‘yes’).

My last week was very emotional. I felt the loss of the goodbyes that office working would have brought. Part of the losing was relationships with colleagues. Being understood. Being known. Being organisationally experienced and knowledgeable. A degree of comfort and safety. Understanding ‘the way things are done’, what behaviours are acceptable, what’s encouraged.

And on the flipside of that loss? ‘The privilege of public service’. I do feel the privilege and the responsibility. I see the immense value in the work my new team does. I see incredible people who demonstrate authenticity, compassion, humility, generosity and a desire to grow. I’ve learnt loads so far in my new role. I’ve chatted to lots of new people and everyone’s been extremely friendly and welcoming. And I’ve started to use my content design skills in a new context to help people do important stuff. But the gains have not yet fully manifested themselves. I feel like I’ve been inhabiting a strange hinterland between losing and gaining. It takes time to fully make the gains in a new place. It’s a working at it and waiting game.

Goodbye sun, hello moon

It’s the end of the summer now and I feel a new sadness closing in. A new mourning. I don’t want the leaves to turn brown and fall. I don’t want to start wearing a coat. I don’t want to lose the light evenings. I don’t want to lose the heat of the sun. I don’t want to lose time with my kids — I don’t want them to grow up. It feels like with every year that passes, they get a step further away from me. My 4 year old starts school properly this week — this means our pre-school era is now over — a momentous milestone!

I long for my kids to grow up so that the hard parts of the current season will pass. But when the next season comes, I only grieve the joys of the previous season that have now passed. And the former troubles are only replaced with new ones! I’ve realised parenthood will never get easier. I need to embrace the hard stuff right now so I can enjoy the good stuff more. There will come a day when, without even realising, I’ll read their last bedtime story, I’ll have my hand held for the last time, have them sitting on my lap for the last time, hold them tight in bed for the last time. When lockdown started back in March, I lost my special ‘Mummy and Willow Mondays’. It’s hard when you can’t say goodbye to something that’s precious to you. When you aren’t aware that it’s the last time you’ll do a thing, have that special day. Then suddenly it’s gone and you can’t get it back.

Managing the feelings

I have to admit I do get in a rut sometimes with feeling sad and melancholy.

What’s helping me move forward?

• accepting the constant cycle of change, losing things, gaining things
• allowing myself to feel sad for a time
• recognising what I’m gaining through the change
• pursuing ‘wholehearted living’, rather than happiness (from Brené Brown)
• practicing being present in the moment and appreciate small moments of joy
• making an effort to do things I enjoy — such as a 3 hr round trip to swim in a river with my friends
• saying what I need and making it happen — I now have every Saturday morning exclusively to myself, because I desperately need introverted time at the end of my week
• being outdoors as much as possible
• focusing my mind on the beautiful things in this season of changing — collecting, arranging, drawing, photographing
• not allowing myself to feel shame for what I feel or for what I need

If you enjoy the outdoors, I’ve found my goodbye gifts from my team at Citizens Advice really inspirational — The Wild Journal: A Year of Nurturing Yourself Through Nature by Willow Crossley and Wild Remedy: How Nature Mends Us by Emma Mitchell. I’m re-gaining my connection with nature and it’s a healing balm.

River at Woodbridge

A note on shame

Shame is when we feel we’re a bad person because we got things wrong, made a mistake, or just don’t feel good enough for whatever reason.

I spent the first 4 years of being a parent struggling with various emotions about my new role and the ways it had changed my life. The moment I realised some of what I was experiencing was grief at what I’d lost, it was a bit of a light bulb moment. But I felt ashamed for feeling grief and loss for aspects of my pre-parenting life and identity. As if feeling loss made me ungrateful for the treasure I’d gained. But you can hold both at the same time. It’s important not to allow those feelings to settle as shame. Acknowledge them and let them be. And practice self-compassion and care, because that’s all we need.

I’ve been reading about the power of shame in Brené Brown’s book ‘Daring Greatly’. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. Brené encourages us to practice shame resilience, to practice vulnerability and courage, to say to ourselves ‘I am enough’. ‘I am worthy’.

Now that I’ve written all of this I’m feeling more positive! There’s a spark of hope rising up. Just maybe there are more gains on the way. Unexpected joys to come. One of the ways to hold both the loss and gains in one hand is to practice mindfulness. And I mean to appreciate the present moment. I think this afternoon I might take the kids blackberry picking.