Transitions are on my mind, not because of the time of year but because of months of huge changes in my life.  Long in the making, every decision was mine, initiated by age, lifestyle, finances and maybe a little need for adventure.  Certainly an adventure is what I got!  One decision leads to another, some more difficult than others.   Sometimes timing is an issue and good life-changing transitions shouldn’t be rushed.  Ha.

If you google the word “transitions”, examples of it being used in a sentence are the first definitions to come up.   One example is of contrast, using words like however, instead, and still.  Sometimes those words do, in fact, apply to my decision processes.  Like I loved my house in the woods, however, pine cones were no longer my friends.

Other examples imply the result of something – thus, consequently, hence, etc.  In my case, I sold my house, so, consequently, had to find a house to buy.  Easier said than done in today’s world.  I debated waiting, but for how long and for what?  And, hence, I found a cute little house that spoke to me and I made a major decision.

Another example of transition words represent contrast.  Like I wanted a rural setting but, still, a house in town sounded nice.  Or instead of a condo I chose a little house with a yard.

Of course, I worry that all the transitions I’ve initiated are the right ones.   Only time will tell.  There’s been frustration and unanticipated expenses.  The trick I’m continually working on is how I handle all the struggle, hopefully with grace.  Admittedly, the level of grace varies.  Chris Stapleton has a great song that speaks to me.  Lyrics include:

“This might not be an easy time.  There’s rivers to cross and hills to climb.  And some days we might fall apart.” 

I’m not expecting to fall apart.  No struggle at all transitioning to retirement, a miracle I’m still marveling over.  Every day I enjoy exploring some treasure in my new town.  I’m making good progress settling into my new home.  I’m far enough along that I’ve started hanging artwork and putting out photos.   Each of my photos represents some kind of past transition, an adventure or celebration that makes me smile.  I’ve come far and I’m grateful for every step. 

Chris sings “Some day we’ll look back and smile, and know it was worth every mile.”  I think I’m already there.  The transitions and compromises I’ve made to get here are the result of lots of practice, some foolish and careful decisions, hard lessons and knowing when to count blessings.  I’m in a good place.