I have been feeling a bit odd in the past fortnight. Like a feather, drifting down the abyss into infinity. Dark. Empty. Groundless. A sense of aimlessness that I have not experienced before.
This week marks the 1-year anniversary of my “Great Resignation”. I have achieved many things that I did not think would be possible. Restoring my health. Learning new things. Connecting with like-minded people. Walking the aligned path. Life is going well, and I have so much to be grateful for. But why do I feel sad?
Then I read an article written by Kevn Kaiser titled “Rights of Passage”:
“In those moments everything changes. It’s as if we’ve embarked on an uncertain passage from one world to another, from one life to another. In the process we jump across a deep gouge, a wound of sorts that now carves a jagged scar through our lives and marks the end of What Was and the beginning of What’s Next.
It also marks the death of one identity and the beginning of another—from who we thought we were to who we have yet to become. Try as we might to hold the fractured parts of our life together, we know nothing will ever be the same.”
That hard-to-explained, lingering feeling of unsteadiness is, in fact, grief.
Life moves in perfect balance between choices and trade-offs. Our status quo and sense of normalcy are being challenged constantly, from moment to moment. Our actions, whether they are intentional or not, bring upon some gains and some losses – and as we already know, we can have everything we want, but not at the same time. Gains and losses are so interconnected that it is normal for us to experience both positive and negative feelings toward the same situation at once.
Seven years ago, debilitating health issues propelled me to seek a different path, an alternative way of being. I was determined to change, believing that I had everything to gain (and nothing to lose.) It did not cross my mind that grief and loss would also be a part of this journey. I have been so focused on my growth and positive “gains” that I have not paused to consider any concurrent “losses” until now, a few weeks before I start a new job.
One thing that stands out to me (which I cannot help but ruminate) is the growing distance between me and many people from the pre-recovery life.
When I start to prioritise my needs, I become increasingly mindful of how I spent my time that I distant myself from people and situations that drain my energy. When I start to practise my values, my actions often deviate from societal or cultural expectations and may not be understood or supported by others. Yet I feel doubtful and guilty about making certain choices, particularly around setting boundaries. As if I had done something wrong and betrayed well-intentioned people who used to be close and dear in my “old” life.
Change, even when it is for good, can challenge identities, shift relationships, and disrupt our sense of belonging.
On one hand, my relationship with myself is going from strength to strength. For the first time in my life, I am clear about who I am and what I want to achieve, and I also have the means to make things happen. I no longer neglect or deprive myself of my needs for the sake of pleasing people and keeping peace. I am finally honouring my truth and enabling myself to show up authentically for service to others.
On the other hand, my relationship with the “old” world is falling apart. Many things I used to enjoy and share in common with people in my circle – lifestyle, interests, conversations – no longer resonate. In my mind and heart, I know this chapter of my life (especially the professional part) has served its purpose and it is time to move on. Yet emotionally I am finding it unsettling to let go and mourn the loss of connection, despite knowing that this is merely a natural cycle of life.
As I move deeper into my sadness, there comes a realisation that I am also grieving for decades of time lost in self-abandonment. When I blindly prioritised the needs of others over mine to seek love, connection and belonging. When I forcefully contorted myself to fit in with family units, institutions and the society. When I wholeheartedly believed that I was not good enough and never would be. I wish that I could go back in time and tell my younger self to listen to the heart, choose non-conformity over compliance, and be okay to disappoint people.
But I cannot rewrite the past. Even if I had the power, I would not have done so. I genuinely believe everything happens for a reason. I am who I am today because of everything that happened to and for me as they were meant to be.
Re-reading several articles that I wrote about my recovery has helped me process the grief and loss of a significant life transition. They remind me how far I have come and why I do what I do now:
On why I left my stable job – How Maitri Guided me to the Great Resignation.
On my physical, mental and emotional experience in the first month of sabbatical – A Month in the Life of a Recovering Workaholic.
On exploring my identity beyond the professional title – Who Am I without a Job? Musings from a Recovering Workaholic (Plus: 9 Julia Cameron Quotes).
On my progress in recovery after six months of sabbatical – 3 Lessons that Helped me through the First 6 Months of Workaholic Recovery.
As Steve Jobs famously said, “[You] can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever.”
Here is the beauty of being human: Life unfolds in a mysterious, magical way that we never know its true meaning until the very end.
Each of us embarks on a journey that is uniquely ours. We move through ups and downs, ride the rollercoaster of emotions, and create meanings individually and collectively. What we gain and lose in a specific moment may not be what we want or expect, but they give us exactly what we need in this lifetime – a core memory, a valuable lesson, or a call to awakening. All we can do is to stay present, be curious and kind, give our all, and trust that the universe always has our back.
“In grief we access parts of ourselves that were somehow unavailable to us in the past. With awareness, the journey through grief becomes a path to wholeness.” ~Mark Matousek, A Splinter of Love
This is a beautiful and meaningful piece of writing Bonnie. In thinking about your quote from Steve Jobs I will add my of my favourites from a tortured but brilliant artist Ian Curtis:
“Existence is, ... well what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can. The past is now part of my future. The present is well out of hand.”
Thanks for sharing your heart and soul with us.
Note to self: "Change is a process, not an event, and you must be patient with both yourself and others in the face of any transition. This kind of gentleness is integral to successful change—it simply won’t happen without a sense of compassion." ~ Susan David, Emotional Agility Newsletter, 11 July 2022