November is one of my favourite months, and not just because it's my birth month! As the leaves turn from green, to the rainbow hues of autumn, of red, gold, amber and bronze, there is something about the transitional energy of November that calls deeply.
Photo by Pixabay
It's the pause before year end, the invitation to appreciate and reflect, before we rush into the intensity of year end celebrations and commitments, tag-teamed by future planning for what lies ahead…
And there is something unnerving about transitional space. It doesn't ask us to do…it invites us to pause, reflect, and simply be.
And we are not used to living without doing. Here, I'll invite you to reflect and ponder with me.
We are more human doings than human beings. We live our lives ruled by calendars, schedules, inboxes, and task lists. Our eyes are glued to screens, from morning till late, barely even putting aside our phones for a scant few hours of sleep. We wake to the alarm of the mobile phone and perform a notification check before we even rise. Most of us consume breakfast, lunch, dinner and caffeine with a screen in view. Our eyeballs are trained to stare at monitors, phones, tablets and even tvs for those gloriously full hits of dopamine, rather than risking intimacy by making eye contact with those around us. It feels scary to pause, and not be doing, or thinking about what we should, could or ought to be doing…
Photo by Adrien Olichon
When I contemplate transitional spaces, there are three key elements that anchor my exploration:
- Observation – applying our senses to notice and take stock of our environment
- Reverie – the freedom to simply be
- Reflection – musing and wondering
Observation
When you look around you in November, what do you see, smell, feel and hear? Walking past the trees on the pavement, there is the satisfying crunch of crisp leaves beneath your boots, as you glide a little on the older, damper leaves. As the skies darken, the burnt smell of gunpowder scented by sulphur, and bonfires drift across your nostrils, just before the scream and screech of fireworks make themselves known, and you pause to look up and notice the colourful explosion across the skies. Perhaps you walk past the warm chestnut and peanut seller, noticing the charred caramel scent, and reach out to burn your fingertips to check the contents of the scorched paper bag. Perhaps you're even tempted to risk ruining your tastebuds with dry, over-cooked specimens for the chance of that one perfect bite!
Photo by Frans van Heerden
Take stock of your life. Engage with all of your senses to notice what you're experiencing. What do you notice when you set down your phone, and engage directly with the world, rather than indulging your inner videographer taking photos or videos to feed your online presence.
Reverie
I allow my feet to continue to wander forward, without a specific destination in mind. My wandering may involve weaving deftly through the crowds cluttering the pavements, as I meander from shop window to shop window, admiring the curiosities within. It may involve stationing myself on a bench, or at a table, idly people watching as I try to guess the language spoken. My wandering may take me through parks with ducks, ponds, swans, and the inevitable mean snappy geese hissing at me intently. Gazing at the Thames river, I may see rowers, speed boats, ferries, barges, yachts, and the working tugs, dredgers and working boats. The to and fro of the activity on the water contrasts with the bustle of cars, vans, buses and lorries interrupted by kamikaze cyclists and scooterists attempting to compete with the professional courier cyclists and motorcyclists. On a lucky day, I may see a grand cruise ship or yacht sail through Tower Bridge as it opens and watch the howls of dismay from vehicles trying to escape the pause and wait!
Photo by Yusuf Miah
As you embrace reverie, notice what brings you joy. Notice the events in your life that bring a smile, and a sense of flow and relaxation.
Reflection
From the zooming out of reverie, let's now zoom in and reflect on what this brings up in me. Let's reflect on the year just past…
What occurred that brought you joy?
What took place that you are proud of?
What is your favourite memory of the year?
And I'm curious if your responses are around people, events or things?
Photo by Gül Işık
I find myself pondering my own transitional space, as I come to the end of a number of phases:
- Completing my 5 years of clinical (re)training as an integrated transpersonal psychotherapist, pivoting from managing people in banking to serving as a guide in healing.
- Achieving recovery from multiple waves of long Covid since 2020, including memory loss, brain fog and extreme fatigue. I've moved on from celebrating walking up one flight of stairs in one go, to managing a training session without stopping. The struggle to reply to texts hasn't been forgotten and still echoes in the background as I find myself able to turn to writing and submitting academic papers.
- Embracing a more integrated life in line with my values, spiritual beliefs and aspirations, walking away from people and situations that are no longer aligned, and stepping toward that which makes me thrive.
I am appreciating that transitions can be messy and uncomfortable, spanning months and years that don't tie up with the traditional year end structure. Part of that discomfort is the shedding. Some of the layers of shedding were easier than others. Replacing my Corporate wardrobe with that of a meditation guide and therapist was easy. Assessing what my core values and beliefs are, and how I wish to live wasn't.
Photo by Adrien Olichon
Making decisions about what no longer served me, and no longer aligned with the life I envision now, was painful. Some of those endings were bitter, leaving me resolved in my decisions; to walk away with no regrets. Some endings still echo with sadness, a grief that will take time to fade. Others were plain relief.
Commuting to Canary Wharf 5 days a week? Erm, no thank you!
And perhaps, this is why transitional space is so hard for us to be with. It asks us to sit with and be comfortable with the uncomfortable. It asks us to surrender and release what no longer serves. As Queen of Resistance, I can confirm that letting go is harder than acquiring!
As we meet the midpoint of November, give yourself the gift of honouring the transitional space you're experiencing. Notice what's already in flight, what's emerging, and what's embryonic. Acknowledge what may need to be shed to make space for what is to come.
Photo by Tara Winstead
Embracing the spirit of gratitude, observe what brings you more happiness, clarity and integration with your personal values and vision.
I wish you joy of your contemplations on your transitional space.
Main – Photo by Kelly
About the Author: Winnie Man
