When Transition Becomes Transformation

'Honor the space between no longer and not yet' 

-Nancy Levin

Last night I watched the most beautiful sunset that I've seen during my 2 1/2 months in Southeast Asia.  Bright sun rays engulfed the clouds and beamed through the vibrant pink, orange and yellow hues in the sky. As the sun faded into darkness, a brilliantly golden full moon slowly made it's ascent into the night sky.  The orbital dance was so seamlessly beautiful. 

Last night's sunset in Phnom Penh.  Photo cred: me

Last night's sunset in Phnom Penh.  Photo cred: me

My own personal transitions, on the other hand, seem clunkier than those hideous platform shoes I wore in high school.  When I decided to sign-up for Remote Year, I knew my life was about to undergo a major transition, but I am just now realizing the extent.  I quit my job, forfeited a grant award, gave up my studio apartment in NYC, was forced to pay THREE months rent for breaking my lease even though the landlord found someone to replace me within 24 hours, ended up in an Airbnb full of Trump supporters in Staten Island (because of said hit to bank account) for three months in the heart of the election, had my original Remote Year itinerary canceled on the night Trump was elected/my birthday requiring me to move into my parents' house for two months where I am now, at 33 years of age, storing all of my furniture and belongings. All this to get myself to Southeast Asia on February 1st.  Seriously, could it get any clunkier?  

Although I'd like to celestially waltz through life, reflecting on nature at work last night helped me respect and understand that my transition, however clunky, is a natural progression towards transformation.  

Transformation realization.  Photo courtesy of: Jay Harrison

Transformation realization.  Photo courtesy of: Jay Harrison

Just as I start to feel at home in one city, it's time to move on to the next.  Sometimes the transition involves a motorbike burn, sometimes I have to hide some luggage to avoid paying for baggage on my already tight budget, and sometimes it allows new people into my orbit that I haven't yet had the chance to interact with.  Each transition brings uncertainty, excitement, new goals and ideas, fear, a different culture and a new way to say 'cheers' and 'thank you'. Sometimes what I want to feel like a sexy salsa, feels more like off-beat gyrating, but ultimately I'm finding the rhythm of my transformation.  Sure, I may step on some peoples' toes along the way, but I learn and grow as I move and I'm becoming a much better dancer.