I’m torn. I want to bust back on the scene like the Koolaid man coming through your mama’s living room wall. I also want to tip toe through the door, blow the dust off the wine glasses, tap the mic a few times, and ask if anyone is still here.

Both seem fitting. So I’ll bust through your living room and then blow the dust off this place we both know and love. I’ve got to welcome you and me back to this space. But even with the busting, and dusting, and tapping…it feels good to be home.

I had to take a few months to just be. To binge watch Jane the Virgin, write stories demanding to be told, and to sit in my season of uncertainty.

Then I needed more time to celebrate God’s faithfulness for allowing me to accept a new job that feels like it was designed just for me.

If you’re not new here, you knew that about seven months ago I decided I wasn’t going to return to my job without any sort of contingency plan. If you are new you can catch up here.

New or old here most people don’t know that as you’re reading this, I’m starting my second week at my new job.

But of all the things I have taken the time to do and feel, what I’ve realized most clearly in the last few months is there is healing power in mourning seasons like we mourn people.

Yes, grieving a season.

While I often told my students that Wikipedia was not a reliable source–I appreciate their definition of grief, so I’m going to use it.

Grief is the multifaceted response to loss.

Wikipedia

We often think of grief when we think of losing people, but what if it was possible to experience grief as we move from one season of our life to the next?

And what if it wasn’t just possible, but was okay to do?

I know the kind of people who read my words. They are ambitious go getters who have plans that require forward movement at all times. They are people with goals who create bigger ones once they’ve achieved them. I am that kind of person too. There is no danger in forward movement. There is however danger in not taking the time to reflect on where you’ve been. We miss critical lessons when we don’t show gratitude for the experiences that continue to move us forward. Even when you didn’t love every moment of that season.

But standing in gratitude for what was isn’t a natural reaction. We can be so thrilled about the new job, moving to the new city, or getting out of the relationship, we miss recognizing we will never have that season again. If we do reflect on the last season , it’s to give thanks its over. Not for all of the things we were able to walk away with because of it. But in a world of walking away and never turning back; reflection and gratitude are gifts we need to learn to master.

Grief Brings Clarity

Thinking about the things we will miss puts into perspective the things that matter most. You may not have been able to stand your manager, but you loved your work. The breakup hurt like hell, but you know because of it you know that you feel safe when you’re heard. Your classes were the hardest thing you had ever done, but you learned the importance of your tribe. Even in the moments of hard seasons, there are revelations waiting to be discovered every single day–but sometimes we can’t see them because we’re too close. This is why we benefit from spending time acknowledging loss and giving thanks for seasons in the same we do for people.

And clarity isn’t always positive and that’s okay. It wasn’t until I had a conversation with a friend did I realized that as much as my last job filled me up, it also left me feeling really insecure about my abilities and what I could contribute in my work environment. Because of that season, I know now the kind of interactions I need with my manager to operate at my highest. I know this next season will be stronger because of the moments of clarity that came from taking in this last season before diving head first into a new one.

Grief Reaffirms Our Identity

It’s easy to believe we are what we do. That we are who we are with, where we live, and what we love.

We are none of those things.

And we are none of the things that come after that job, location, person, or passion either. As a believer, I don’t think the truest part of my identity can be found in anyone’s thoughts or opinions or me, or in the work I do.

This is a brand new development in my life that took going through the process of walking away from my identity as a teacher to truly understand teaching wasn’t who I was, it was what I did. And I just happened to be blessed enough to love what I did. But not doing it anymore doesn’t make me any less of a person.

The shifts in your day to day don’t have any bearing on your value as a human being either. We need to sit in between what we had previously done and what we will do next. It is important to understand that while all of those things are important, they don’t define you. You’re okay without all of them.

There’s a time for all things.

Grieving a season or experience doesn’t require an outer manifestation of sadness. We may cry, but we don’t have to. There is no need to be upset for weeks on end. The black dress can stay in your closet.

Grieving a season doesn’t mean we’re sad or ungrateful because of what is coming. It’s about taking the time to acknowledge that regardless of how hard or smooth the last season of your life was, it’s something you can’t get back. And in that season, there were lessons that you needed for the next.

So process how you need to, but process. Because there is so much power in reflecting on all parts of what you’ve been through.

There is understanding in the season that just ended that’s waiting for you to bring it forth into the next season of your life. I can’t wait to see what you find and how you use it.

There’s magic in our musings, of grief, and our gratitude,
Nicole