A Transition Solstice Celebration…

Who wouldn’t give their right arm for more hours in the day? When faced with the prospect of newly available time, most of us instantly think about what we could do. The possibilities are endless. Think about it. An important ‘to do’ for work. A laundry list of actions in support of children, spouses, or dependent elders. A few minutes for long deferred personal care or even a personal interest. Maybe even a few moments dedicated to a long overdue job search. What would you do with ‘found time?’ Would wishing make it to your list?

Time was on my mind this week as we enjoyed the Summer Solstice. Celebrated on June 21st, the day marks the true start of summer for me. It is our ‘longest’ day of the year in the Northeast, offering six more hours of daylight than its astronomical opposite on December 21st. It makes me think about time and how I choose to spend it. A concept, I might add, that I rarely thought of pre-transition.

Solstice derives from two Latin words; sol, or sun, and stare, to stand or stop. Early astronomical observers believed that on the solstice the sun stopped its progression in the sky. Its literal translation is the day when the sun stands still.

The solstice’s definition caught my attention this week because I’ve been noodling a presentation I gave earlier this month. On June 9th I hosted a luncheon ‘dry run’ of the key messages from my upcoming book, Women & Transition: Reinventing Work and Life (Macmillan Nov 2015). The outset of the conversation was standard fare: transition’s definition, its anatomy, and an overview of a process that I created to help women navigate transition.

What really caught my audience’s eye was a list at the end of my remarks about what surprised me most in my research. For those unfamiliar with my research, I spoke with two hundred women in various forums about transition over an eighteen month period.

Before I share the surprise, let me give you some background. It’s a bit of an oversimplification so please bear with me.

Thanks to my research and my own circuitous path, I found that transition requires us to navigate an iterative two-stage process. The first stage is ‘envision,’ during which we develop a hypothesis of what ‘might be’ possible for us. It goes by many names. A dream. A wish. A personal strategy. You can choose the vocabulary most comfortable for you. This stage asks us to think beyond our assumptions about what we could or should do – staring down boundaries set by ourselves and by other’s expectations of us.

The second stage is ‘validate,’ a stage during which we test and retest and learn about our ‘envision’ hypothesis. This stage is experimental and flexible – progressing in increments designed to fit our own circumstances. At the end of all this you get a refined wish and real life experiences to give you the confidence to move in that direction. I referred to the transition process’s cycle at the June 9th lunch as the dream/do loop.

The surprise I shared on June 9th? I’ve witnessed again and again that women shortchange the work in the dream stage, preferring instead to do. The work of thinking – wishing – is difficult, non-linear and uncertain. Let’s face it most of us would rather clean the refrigerator on a sunny day than undertake such a task.

Wishing seems fanciful. This is only partly true. Here’s what I’ve learned: Dreaming requires us to trust our instincts – and most importantly to dignify what we hear. There is a competency we build up in the process – we learn to quell the negative internal voices that instantly pop up to extinguish whatever those instincts may be telling us.

In the summer weeks ahead be aware of the shortening days as we begin the long cycle towards the Winter Solstice. If you find yourself with a moment or two, dream. I’ve found it’s the most useful do you can do.