TRANSITIONS
There have been a lot of changes I’ve embraced in my life. Most recently, I took over my company Uplift from business partners, then made the gut-wrenching-but-liberating decision to close it down. After 22 years - my entire adult life - of living in New York City, I picked up and moved across the country to LA for no reason other than it was time for a major change.
Change is different from transition: I see change as the spark, the step out of the old, and transition is the stepping forward toward something new. Even when you’re not sure yet what that “something new” entails in its entirety, or at all. It’s not for the faint of heart, but for me, they’re both necessary for my growth.
Elizabeth Gilbert captures this perfectly in her “NOT THIS” mini-essay:
All you know is that some deep life force within you is saying, NOT THIS, and it won't be silenced.
I think some of the bravest people I have ever met were people who had the courage to say the words, "NOT THIS" out loud — even before they had an alternative plan.
People who walked out of bad situations without knowing if there was a better situation on the horizon.
People who looked at the life they were in, and they said, "I don't know what my life is supposed to be...but it's NOT THIS." And then they just...left.
Most recently, the NOT THIS-ness in my life has been found in my consumption of alcohol.
To be clear, I didn’t want to stop drinking, at all. I didn’t want to let go of my identity as a drinker, as the fun one always up to go out or do anything (well, especially if it involved drinking), or that tingle of literal and figurative warmth that a wine buzz brought me very regularly.
But the “NOT THIS” drumbeat - From the universe? My higher self? My too-frequent hangovers? - became too constant, and too loud, to ignore.
At the same time, I found Brene Brown’s “Midlife Unraveling” article:
…And just in case you think you can blow off the universe the way you did when you were in your twenties and she whispered, “Pay attention,” or when you were in your early thirties and she whispered, “Slow down,” I assure you that she’s much more dogged in midlife. When I tried to ignore her, she made herself very clear: “There are consequences for squandering your gifts. There are penalties for leaving big pieces of your life unlived. You’re halfway to dead. Get a move on.”
I’m really apprehensive about moving forward - transitioning - into this next phase of life without alcohol as a crutch, a friend, a salve, and the devil on my shoulder whispering, “Come on! Have another glass of wine. Let’s have FUN!” It’s given me a lot over the years. But now, it’s taking away in direct proportion to what it used to give me. And I know I’m meant for so much more.
I look back on the things I mentioned before - closing down my business, moving to LA, and all of the other transitions I’ve gone through, self-imposed or otherwise. In all of them, I literally had NO idea what was coming next, but without fail, something amazing - something, many things, way better - did come.
Here in my adorable cozy apartment in the heart of West Hollywood, surrounded by new friends and new activities (pickleball, swoon) and new professional opportunities every day, and still supported and loved by my family and friends back on the east coast, I wake up and before I’m even fully conscious I say to myself, “I’m so happy I’m here.”