SM Babylon

Surveying my back yard today I noticed an interesting condition.  A couple months ago I demolished everything; deck, plants etc.  What remained was a rumble of broken concrete, wood scraps, stubs of plants, an odd broken plant container and a defunct, plastic koi pond.  Feeling complete for awhile I proceeded to get estimates for reconstruction of the deck and landscaping.  During this phase I continued with my meanderings in my new vocation (a former avocation);  brainstorming sessions, planning meetings and classes.

Looking at the yard I discovered a fact of nature:  The earth always renews itself, nothing is static and destruction initiates renewal.  You might think well of course but it is exciting to see these truths in action, as Voltaire might say in your own backyard.  The journey of transition necessitates destruction or ending and between the building and beginning there is the messiness of my backyard.  Psychologists call it a transition and it can't be avoided.  Wouldn't it be nice if one could just quit a job, end a relationship and move to a new home without muss and fuss?  No can do.  The end and the beginning always has a transition and it comes with the grayness of the change.  Even if you quit the job on Friday and start the new one on Monday, there is still the leftover 401K or the request to come back to train the replacement.  And don't get me started talking about the end of an intimate relationship.  That change can take years or a lifetime.

Now, back to my backyard.  I looked there last week and saw bamboo shoots popping up all over the place.  The old ways wanted to come back.  I consulted with a landscaper and she said, "we can deal with it by digging it up and poisoning the ground."  I am an ardent environmentalist and poisoning harmless plants doesn't feel kind to me.  Shifting my gaze to my change of work, I see some of the old habits, values, identities sneak in and poke around in my new vision of my work life.  My task is to kindly pull those old mind weeds and dispose of them sustainably to open the space for the fresh to emerge and collect the broken pieces and recycle them.  Like the backyard my task is to find a way to be gentle with my past work identity and plant the seeds of the new vision.

This new life/ work/ vision is growing in the rubble of the old while the remnants fertilize the new beginnings.  Cherishing the end now, I am ready for the new.