Sustainable Healthy Living, by Sheila Mullen – Aug. 27, 2012
This last week, people have been expressing a high level of exhaustion. It caused me to stop and ask why? I love fall. I eagerly await the cooler weather, the colorful canvas of the changing leaves and
college football. I believe there
is no better time in the year.
For many, however, autumn replaces the
slow, lazy days of summer with hurried schedules, adding school back in and
continuing to balance the rest of life. Fall is a time of transition. No matter how excited we are for the
next phase, times of transition are a time of letting go and having faith. During these times of transitions I
often pull out a great reminder written by Joshua Rosenthal, the director of the
Institute for Integrative Nutrition, called The Flying Trapeze.
After reading, I always find a little more peace, a strengthened resolve, a touch more faith and the ability to take a deep breath and relax in order to prepare myself for the growth and learnings of what is coming next. I hope by me sharing this with you, you might have the same experience.
The Flying Trapeze
By Joshua Rosenthal
Sometimes, I feel that my life is
a series of trapeze swings. I'm either hanging on to a trapeze bar swinging
along or, for a few moments, I'm hurdling across space between the trapeze
bars.
Mostly, I spend my time hanging on
for dear life to the trapeze bar of the moment. It carries me along a certain
steady rate of swing and I have the feeling that I'm in control. I know most of
the right questions, and even some of the right answers. But once in a while,
as I'm merrily, or not so merrily, swinging along, I look ahead of me into the
distance, and what do I see?
I see another trapeze bar looking
at me. It's empty. And I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new
bar has my name on it. It is my next
step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart of hearts I
know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present well-known bar
to move to the new one.
Each time it happens, I hope — no, I
pray — that I won't have to grab the new one. But in my knowing place, I know
that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar, and for some moments in
time I must hurtle across space before I can grab the new bar. Each time I do this I am filled with
terror. It doesn't matter that in all my previous hurdles I have always
made it.
Each time I am afraid I will miss,
that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless basin between the
bars.
But I do it anyway. I must.
Perhaps this is the essence of
what the mystics call faith. No guarantees, no net, no insurance, but we do it
anyway because hanging on to that old bar is no longer an option. And so, for
what seems to be an eternity but actually lasts a microsecond, I soar across
the dark void called "the past is over, the future is not yet here."
It's called a transition. I have come to believe that it is the only place that
real change occurs.
I have a sneaking suspicion that
the transition zone is the only real thing, and the bars are the illusions we
dream up to not notice the void. Yes, with all the fear that can accompany
transitions, they are still the most vibrant, growth-filled, passionate moments
in our lives.
And so transformation of fear may
have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves
permission to "hang out" in the transition zone – between the
trapeze bars – allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change
really happens.
It can be terrifying. It can also
be enlightening.
Hurdling through the void, we just
may learn to fly.
Be well.
About Sheila Mullen – The
founder of Continuous Motion Consulting, Sheila is passionate about engaging
friends, family and community in improving their lives and the lives of those
around them. Sheila spent more than 20 years in technology sales, marketing and
development. She also has a background in organizational development,
innovation and executive wellness coaching.
