Grieving Positive Transitions.

Change is easy; transitions are hard. I came across a podcast by Patrick Lencioni, and that was the discussion. Folks like change. It’s targeted at a specific issue or task to resolve and often has a time limit, so we are certain of when it will end and what the expected outcome is. We could say change is fairly predictable and that’s comforting for many who crave certainty, at least to some degree. It’s the transitions that we don’t like because they are a messy and emotional process. Transitions often catch us unawares. We have lingering feelings and thoughts that we struggle to articulate, which in turn hinders our ability to seek help. Unlike change, transitions seem to last forever, and it’s difficult to even measure progress.

At the beginning of this year, we moved out of our nice, warm, old house that we had known as home for almost a decade. It was located in a court named The Village, and that it was for sure. We had neighbours we liked who became family, and others that we didn’t like hehe. I wondered why all the good folks moved out instead of the sumbua ones hehe. We had all sorts of petty fights, from pets pooping in other people’s front yards, to parking battles and children scratching cars while riding their bikes. We confronted each other on the estate WhatsApp group because that’s how many middle-class folks react—keyboard warriors. We seem to prefer typing over talking about issues.

My baby sharks made deep friendships while at The Village. My daughter even travelled to visit her pal majuu last year after they relocated. We used to do the school run in groups using our estate school van. That’s how tight we were. Our kids would play in each other’s homes till evening. There were times we didn’t know which house our child was in. When that happened, we would ask on the WhatsApp group for the child to return. Soon afterwards, a parent would own up and send the kid home. It was a warm place to live despite the drama, which often ended humorously. For a village that housed retirees, young couples and everyone else in between, this was expected.

But like everything in life, the time for us to move came. That season at the Village was over, and I think it had been for a while, but I was reluctant to move. Mummy shark did her thing and found us a serious digz. It was bigger and better. While we were all excited and looking forward to the new house, something was missing.

Lencioni, in his podcast, says that we have to find a way of dealing with loss, even positive loss. That’s a new one for me. We usually relate to loss as a negative thing and overlook loss from a positive occurrence, like moving to a nicer home. My son made me aware of it. While I was reluctant to leave my comfort zone, my kijana expressed his displeasure loudly about the move. He didn’t want to leave The Village because that meant leaving his friendships behind. That loss was difficult for him and clouded his view of the place we were moving to. He was going to finally have his own room, but that wasn’t incentive enough to leave his gang at the village.

I had my version of his feelings, but I handled them in an adult manner, like the half-a-century-old dad he reminds me I am hehe. Folks, I learnt that transitions have loss irrespective of whether it is positive or negative. When we get promoted at work, we lose some closeness we shared with peers who now see us as a boss. We now live in a nicer place with fewer homes, but fewer kids, too. So I’ve had to ferry my son and his younger sister to the village every other weekend to play with their long-time buddies. Some have also come to visit them at our new place.

That’s how we are dealing with the loss from our move because you can’t pack emotions in a box and move them in a truck like furniture. Have you been promoted in an area of your life? What loss has that positive transition brought? And how are you dealing with that, folks? To transition well, we have to end things well. Lencioni tells us that we should have a way to ceremonialise endings.

Back in 2016, when I began exiting my tent business—at least in my mind—I lingered there for three years. I was frustrated because I felt stuck, and my shareholders would not fire me despite my asking. Finally, with the help of my coach, I realised that as I was waiting for my board to send me home, perhaps they were also waiting for me to announce and make the move.

I met them over tea and told them I needed to leave by a certain day. To my surprise, they agreed rather quickly. No questions asked, apart from what we needed to do to part amicably. One of those things was to sell the inventory. When I left that meeting, I made a list of all our stuff and put it on sale. The sale went quite fast, and I remember one morning going to our warehouse and finding it almost empty. I was emotional because a 24-year season of my life had been sold and gone.

A few weeks later, I demolished that warehouse and converted the space into residential units. That demolition was the ceremony for me. The ending had ended kabisa. I was then able to release any hang-ups and move forward into a neutral zone that wasn’t clear. But that didn’t bother me much because I had ended what I was sure I needed to end. Folks, what do you need to demolish to end well? What does a closing ceremony look like for you? Find what works for you and do it. If you don’t, you may end up being stuck and frustrated for a long time. We’re still figuring out the ideal ending ceremony with my kijana on our house move.

Please throw that ending bash if you’re at the exit of a season and invite us to celebrate with you hehe.