I remember when my kids were in elementary school and life had finally hit a predictable pace; I knew at the time there was an expiration date to all of it, that someday they’d certainly leave; I’d tell myself, yes, but it’s not right now. Right now, I get spend that time and watch them experience life. And then I told myself I’ll get another year, and another year – that false sense of control, or at least what feels like control. Steady comfort, until there’s not another year left, or another month, because it’s right here, it’s 3 weeks.
In 3 weeks, the need for me will be different. The youngest will go to college out-of-state and there’s a lot I won’t know or experience with him. He’s going to know people I don’t know, people I’ll never meet or hear about. People who will shape and develop him. I’ll have to figure out how to stay connected from afar. The need for me will be different. And this is good.
There’s a term in my profession called “individuation”, a natural time where young adults rebel (not necessarily in the destructive sense but in the definition sense – Google definition: “to rise in opposition or armed resistance against an established government or ruler.”) in order to discover who they are separate from everyone. The implication in the “rising” is the growing – the elevating of this changing, separate, whole person.
So, that’s it. My youngest is rising and now I’m looking at me. What am I doing? Am I rising? Am I growing? I haven’t had to fully think about me for a long time, 18 years, longer.
It’s not that there’s been NO growth or self-focus over these 18 plus years, it’s just that I focused on them more. Now that’s changing.
And I’m not alone.
The truth is that life puts an empty nest in front of everyone – some loss that suddenly shifts the sense of life as they knew it. Something or someone there who is no longer there. Spouses, significant others, parents, jobs, school, friends, and not even in the obvious ways change shows up, but in the quiet ways when it’s just not the same anymore. Or someone isn’t the same anymore. What follows can be grief, fear, uncertainty, anger; however, maybe, there can be a rebel side to this empty nest; a rising where there is hope, anticipation and excitement.
Keeping the nest empty may feel safe for some, maybe more secure. However, the stuckness that is certain to follow can feel aimless and debilitating. To take aim, we need to face and…
Fill the Nest:
Face the fear. Rebel. Rise. FILL the nest.
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