Transition is good. It's like getting the death card in Tarot; the end of one thing and opening the door for something new.
Transitions can be hard too. Ending a relationship--ugh. Leaving a job, particularly when it's not self-initiated. Moving to a new area--post office notices, documents, maps, new people. And the list goes on.
I look at transitions as a natural progression of one's life. Not everything is meant to stay the same. With change we are challenged. Our comfort zones squeek, the confidence meter flickers, "like the back my hand" isn't a daily possibility. How refreshing to find ourselves with new choices and decisions to make. The possibilities just keep coming.
After almost 20 years in human resources, I'm done. I've had many jobs during those years; each a transition in its own right. But now, it's the big transition and I am more than ready. I don't care to see another resume, read another change in employment law, listen to another grievance, play another HR political dodge. Done.
So a couple of weeks ago I was pulling out of the driveway and as I usually do, rolled down the window to yell hello to the 5 cows that generally hang out down by the road. On the way down the drive, I greeted the horses as I passed them and then the dogs as they ran alongside the car. When I returned home, it was the same in reverse. Then I walked down to the chickens to see how they were doing and checked out the birds flying around on my way. Then I went back inside to work on a dance I was going to teach in my class the next day.
It dawned on me. Transitions make sense.
I've had so much training in behavioral interviewing, reading between the lines, watching body language for that unspoken message, anticipating patterns, noting changes and discrepancies, teaching line managers how to interview candidates and how to conduct a performance review or disciplinary counseling. I may be done with HR, but these tools are engrained in me and are making my new experience even richer.
I notice a change in a horse's behavior or walk and know something isn't quite right, I pick up on the tired energy of an aging dog, I can tell the difference between 2 chickens that look almost identical because I've observed their personalities without realizing it and I can make a complicated line dance come across as easily attainable so everyone gets it.
So, when one thing ends, it's not because it was a failure or didn't work out. That's cheating yourself. It was good for what it was. Hopefully we made the best we could of it. Everything we learn and do will come in handy on another day--maybe years later, maybe tomorrow.
If we welcome transition and know we're being set up for it because we are ready for it, we can trust it and all will be well. If we fear the transition and look at it as a second chance or a Plan B, it will always feel like that: sub-par.
Hug change. It can be great!
Transitions can be hard too. Ending a relationship--ugh. Leaving a job, particularly when it's not self-initiated. Moving to a new area--post office notices, documents, maps, new people. And the list goes on.
I look at transitions as a natural progression of one's life. Not everything is meant to stay the same. With change we are challenged. Our comfort zones squeek, the confidence meter flickers, "like the back my hand" isn't a daily possibility. How refreshing to find ourselves with new choices and decisions to make. The possibilities just keep coming.
After almost 20 years in human resources, I'm done. I've had many jobs during those years; each a transition in its own right. But now, it's the big transition and I am more than ready. I don't care to see another resume, read another change in employment law, listen to another grievance, play another HR political dodge. Done.
So a couple of weeks ago I was pulling out of the driveway and as I usually do, rolled down the window to yell hello to the 5 cows that generally hang out down by the road. On the way down the drive, I greeted the horses as I passed them and then the dogs as they ran alongside the car. When I returned home, it was the same in reverse. Then I walked down to the chickens to see how they were doing and checked out the birds flying around on my way. Then I went back inside to work on a dance I was going to teach in my class the next day.
It dawned on me. Transitions make sense.
I've had so much training in behavioral interviewing, reading between the lines, watching body language for that unspoken message, anticipating patterns, noting changes and discrepancies, teaching line managers how to interview candidates and how to conduct a performance review or disciplinary counseling. I may be done with HR, but these tools are engrained in me and are making my new experience even richer.
I notice a change in a horse's behavior or walk and know something isn't quite right, I pick up on the tired energy of an aging dog, I can tell the difference between 2 chickens that look almost identical because I've observed their personalities without realizing it and I can make a complicated line dance come across as easily attainable so everyone gets it.
So, when one thing ends, it's not because it was a failure or didn't work out. That's cheating yourself. It was good for what it was. Hopefully we made the best we could of it. Everything we learn and do will come in handy on another day--maybe years later, maybe tomorrow.
If we welcome transition and know we're being set up for it because we are ready for it, we can trust it and all will be well. If we fear the transition and look at it as a second chance or a Plan B, it will always feel like that: sub-par.
Hug change. It can be great!
Photo with Gingerbread Man after an amazing ride on a beautiful June Sunday afternoon.
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