Leaning toward Transition

A number of books I've read on change all talked of the inability to stay in transition, to stay "stuck." I have been in that stage for the last year and am feeling a pull to move, in a number of ways and with a number of pressures/assurances. And I am fighting it every inch of the way! I don't want "moving on" to feel like I'm leaving Janell and the incredible life we had together.

I want my life to have meaning, context, direction and a modicum of enjoyment. With the exception of my family - nuclear, extended and in-laws - there is not much of anything related to any of them - no meaning, no context, no direction and little enjoyment.

My work - I'm doing my job, for the sake of professionalism and because of the close bond I have with my project directors. I will not let them down. And as I've written before, I feel something waiting in the wings, a "capstone career" if you will. I don't know what it is; I don't when it will appear; I don't where it will be; I just know there is something there. I can't make it happen; it will emerge on its own terms.

My social life - I don't have one, with the exceptions of family and work friends. Janell and our friends constituted my social connections. She is gone and the couple-friends have moved back into their routines. I've re-connected with friends from my pre-Janell days, but shifting into a single's life feels awkward and contrived. There is no natural flow.

My home - I love our home. It is my sanctuary. I will keep it as a nesting place for the kids and their families when they visit. But five years, ten years, and beyond, will I want to keep it. A house requires constant care - cleaning, yardwork, maintenance, and remodeling. For now - I stay, for my benefit and for the benefit of the kids.

My lifestyle - I have a routine, both for the work week and for the weekends. I almost always wake up on my own between 6:00 and 6:30 a.m., weekend included. My daily exercise shifts between walks and trips to the gym, with the treadmill, stair master and elliptical, with a smattering of abdominal and upper body exercises. My eating habits are static - simply prepared meats, steamed vegetables, fresh salads, an occasional pasta and light desserts, and lots of juices. I still wear the same clothes Janell helped me buy, even though most of my slacks and jeans don't fit, having lost two-three inches off my waist. I just cinch up the belt to hold them up. In the winter I shoveled snow; in the summer I mow the lawn, trim the shrubs and pull weeds. Blah - blah - blah.

I need to re-learn how to reach out, to take healthy risks, to peak over the horizon and grow into a new life, holding on to the fond memories of the past and letting go of the pain and grief.  I think about What About Bob  and the mantra: "baby-steps, baby-steps, baby-steps."