I really hate change. Even positive change. My brain views it as a threat to safety, and change for me can look like an explosive emotional reaction to something that may have before barely registered as a mild annoyance or even somewhat interesting and exciting.
One of the many, many reasons I practice yoga. It helps.
I did not have to deal with a lot of transitions in my own recovery for a long time, because things were not changing for me for a long time. I wasn’t able to do a lot of work or work on changing my thought patterns and responses, so the transitions were fewer and farther between.
That is no longer the case. Things are changing quickly with my recovery (in a good way!) the work is starting to pay off, and things are changing more quickly with work (the work and work on myself is really starting to pay off!) I gave a public presentation this morning that was really well received, I’m about to kick off a great project, I have a project stalled in bureaucracy, I’m about to finish a project with which a client is very pleased, and I’m not pushing myself on hours this week because I don’t have to and I need a lighter work week after a tough May schedule.
This all includes a lot of transitions, and will continue to include a lot of transitions. Those things I don’t respond well to. Those things that come with change, which my brain hates.
So I breathe.
If I hold my breath in the transitions, if I wait until (insert future point or accomplishment over which I have little to no control) happens to breathe, I won’t make it. Breathing is calming, breathing is necessary, breathing is good.
Yes, breathing is good.
Sometimes you have to make space for it, sometimes you have to be reminded to do it, sometimes you have to shove the crushing weight off of your chest, but you have to breathe, and you have to breathe in the transitions. Breathe with them. Breathe into them.