Who Am I Now?
by Grace Harman
Life is marked by a series of transitions.
Transitions from one stage of life to the next, from and through varying identities, from one physical place to the next, and of course the ultimate one, from life to death.
We know this intellectually.
And, the process of moving through transitions is often a shock to our bodies. We humans are relational creatures, and with each new beginning comes the end of some connection or relationship that our bodies had come to know and depend on. Each change ripples out into the community around us, whether consciously or not.
Consider a birth, which encompasses the transition of baby from womb to earth (or, in some cases, to death), the transition of the woman or birthing person to the role of mother or parent and the transition of their parents to the role of grandparents, the transition of their communities to hold another little being.
In the case of a joyous birth, there is great excitement and energy around the newness of creation. And, there is also loss, and likely grief, around the releasing of old identities, schedules and freedom.
All of this is normal, but in the context of a culture that both struggles with nuance and complexity and one that is largely divorced from community and ritual that give our bodies structure for moving through, we often feel crazy or like there is something wrong with us when it is difficult to fully embrace the new. If we don’t have community and strong internal rooting, our feelings of unsettling, sadness, or guilt can become overwhelming to bear on our own. If there is no one to both reflect us as we are becoming and to help us carry the accompanying grief, transition is quite lonely.
I think of transition as an inherently creative process. As we navigate the murky waters between who we were and who we are becoming, new possibilities present themselves that we could not have had access to in the past. Questions arise that never had room to be explored before.
Who am I actually?
What do I care about?
What is important to me?
Transition, then, is ripe with the possibility for transformation.
Embracing (or at least growing our capacity to feel) the murkiness, unsteadiness, and not knowing means that the people we become inside of that process will be truer and more authentic than we were able to be in the past. This is not an overnight or linear process, but a gentle and spiraling unwinding of what is not actually us. If we can soften our judgements and inner shoulds of how and what we should be, we can meet ourselves where we truly are, moment to moment.
Transition is inherently embodied. It changes our physical patterning, both internally-the sensations that tell us how we actually feel (not what we tell ourselves we should feel) about ourselves and the world around us, and externally-the amount of space we take up, the way we move through the world, the clothing we wear and the relationships we cultivate.
Each time I ask my clients to tune into a sensation they are experiencing, to ask their bodies questions and to embody their feelings, new possibilities open up. New pathways are formed. I hold a radical space of permission in which no expression or feeling is bad. As they start to internalize that belief, they begin to trust themselves to be who they are.
Allowing the body to guide the process before the mind allows all of us to become truer versions of ourselves with each passing day.
If you are moving through a life transition and would like a supportive and creative space to be held as you move through, the 8 week group Who Am I Now? is starting in September …does this call to you?
Sign up with me here today!
Blog Disclaimer - These posts are not meant to treat, diagnose, or serve as a replacement for therapy. If you or someone you know is experiencing a mental health emergency, please contact your local crisis center or dial 911. Here are more immediate resources as well.
