When my first grandchild was born, I had another family commitment and didn’t expect to be there for his birth. But when I heard my daughter was in labor, my husband and I quickly regrouped and I was on the plane within less than 24 hours. We knew I needed to be there. And it was a race to see if Baby Jay or I would arrive first. In the end, I arrived for the last four hours of labor — and delivery. And it was one of the sweetest moments of my life. I couldn’t have been prouder of my daughter and son-in-law, or more thrilled with my grandson. I knew I would love being a grandma, but you just don’t “know” until you KNOW. I’ve loved watching him grow — and his parents adapting to parenthood like champs has been so much fun.

So when the kids announced that Baby #2 was on the way, well, I’m ready. This grandma arrived a week early. Which brings me back to the waiting.

I’m here in South Korea

I came to South Korea a week early, because Jay arrived a week early — so naturally we expected little Kayleigh might do the same. And we all wanted to be sure I could be there to support their little household, especially with a 14-month old now in the picture.

But apparently, Ms. Kayleigh Jane has a mind of her own.

We’re four days past her due date.

And we’re waiting. Change is coming, and we’re waiting.

So what do you do when you’re waiting?

First of all, we trust God’s timing. We don’t understand the reasons but we know that God does. Perhaps Kayleigh needs more time to develop. Maybe the right staff aren’t yet available at the hospital. Someone suggested she’s waiting for Grandpa to arrive. Mama says she might be planning to stay in her tummy until her 18th birthday (send sustenance)! Whatever the timing, we know that it will be just right.

Secondly, we accept that whatever the reasons, they’re out of our control. We joke about doing all of the things to make baby come sooner (bumpy drives, walking), but in the end a due date is an educated guess!

Third, we prepare the best we can. As I write this, mama and Baby Jay are taking a nap and Papa is out grocery shopping. I finished knitting Kayleigh’s blanket several days ago, did a meal prep plan and am supporting where I can — and I am getting in my daily walks, a necessity for this grandma that needs fresh air and movement.

Fourth, find joy in the moments. I’ve had so much fun reconnecting with Jay and his parents, and ensuring that he’s comfortable with Grandma when Mama and Papa go to the hospital. We spent time together this summer and we talk often on video calls so he knew my face! We’ve all had fun hanging out at the apartment, going out to dinner, and to the mall. And two nights ago, Sara and Andrew had their first date since Jay was born!

Rest into the waiting

As excited as we can be for change (especially a new baby), sometimes God prepares us in ways we can’t even imagine. If you’re in a season of unexpected waiting for change that seems to be barreling straight at you, I encourage you to slow down and appreciate the waiting instead of second-guessing when and how the change will hit you. Sometimes the real gift lies in the waiting, in living Betwixt and Between!

May you find joy and peace in your waiting seasons as you also find hope and energy for stepping into the changes in your life.

The post When you’re waiting… appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

When we left for Spain last fall, we weren’t quite calling ourselves pilgrims (peregrinos in Spanish). We just knew this experience would be more than a vacation or a break from our everyday routine. With Wolfgang’s retirement at the beginning of the summer, we were transitioning and needed time and space to contemplate the next 30 years. I wrote about the beginning of our journey in A Living Lighter Camino.

The Camino came highly recommended from several friends and acquaintances. It truly seemed as though God was guiding us towards this cathartic opportunity. We were late in planning, ill prepared, and didn’t really know what to pack. But despite these uncertainties, God opened all the doors we needed to realize that this pilgrimage was meant to be.

Camino lesson #1: What is a pilgrimage?

Pilgrimage, while not much talked about today, has a long history in many religions, including Christianity. After building the temple in Jerusalem (ca. 957 B.C.), the Jewish people made pilgrimages to Jerusalem for three festivals: Passover, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles. On their way to the Temple, they sang the “pilgrim songs” or “songs of assent”, from Psalms 119-133.

As the Gospel spread throughout history, Christians hoped to gain clarity by traveling in the footsteps of Jesus and the apostles. Even when at risk of being martyred for their faith, the faithful flocked to the tombs of saints to honor them and God.

The word “pilgrim” derives from the Latin peregrinum and conveys the idea of a prolonged journey, often on foot, toward a specific destination of significance, with the purpose of honoring God. Traditionally, pilgrimages may be undertaken as penance for sin; as petition for a special blessing or favor; or simply out of devotion. Often, pilgrims search for new or expanded meaning and desire transformation in their daily lives.

Pilgrimage is not compulsory in Christianity, but many Christians choose to undertake journeys to holy sites to deepen their connection with God. feel connected to the worldwide community of Christians, and to meet Christians from different denominations.

Camino lesson #2: A modern pilgrim experience

If you haven’t had a pilgrimage experience, it might be helpful to imagine yourself in our shoes for a day! So, take a minute to picture yourself at the beginning of a typical pilgrim’s day:

• Stand or visualize yourself standing
• Shake out your arms, maybe take a couple of steps
• Now, imagine yourself beginning your job for the day – walking.
• Pick a specific destination about 12-20 miles away. For example, from downtown Anchorage it’s about 16 miles to the peak of Flattop.
• Imagine it’s summer and you’ll walk at an average pace of three miles per hour. Accounting for varied terrain, breaks and maybe a lunch stop, you’ll walk about 7-8 hours today.
• Visualize what clothes you’re wearing, what you’ll encounter during the day, and what you’ll take in your backpack. You’ll need essentials such as a rain jacket, trekking poles, water, maybe a sandwich or some snacks, and a first aid kit. You can also stop at a store, or restaurants or cafes along the way.
• Now, imagine this is just one day on a longer journey. You’ll be walking like this for the next 40 days!

If you were on the Camino, the path you’d travel always leads ultimately to one destination.

Camino lesson #3: Santiago

All paths of the Camino de Santiago lead to Santiago de Compostela. The city is named after the patron saint of Spain, Saint James (Sant Iago). Pilgrimages began in the 9th century when a farmer in Galicia discovered the remains of the apostle Saint James in a field. Today, the Camino contains Spain’s longest walking trails, with six major routes and several variants converging on Santiago de Compostela. 

The most popular of the routes, the route that we chose, is the Camino Frances: a 500-mile journey beginning in St Jean Pied de Port, just across the French border. The path travels due west through five regions of Spain. About 400,000 pilgrims arrive in Santiago each year, making it one of the most well-traveled long distance trails in the world.

For the typical pilgrim, the Camino Frances is broken up into 34 hiking segments varying in distance from 15–32 kilometers or 9-20 miles per day. The average pilgrim walks about 3 miles per hour on flat ground, but terrain, weather, and heat also affect the pace.

So on a short day, we walked for 4-5 hours. We averaged 6-7 hours per day with handful of days where it took us 8-10 hours. This does include breaks and meals along the way. Most segments had villages every couple of miles so finding a place to rest and eat wasn’t an issue.

Camino lesson #4: Everyone has a “why” and a way

Each pilgrim has their own story and reasons for going — and finds his or her own way. Every traveler’s journey begins with a first step over the threshold of wherever you call home. We started out from Anchorage with just a few reasons to go that made sense for us — and no clear vision of the path ahead.

We were experiencing life transitions, and this was an opportunity to examine long-held beliefs, patterns and habits. Literally, it was time to reevaluate everything — our future goals and plans, our relationship with each other, and most importantly our spiritual relationship with God.

Our way

There are as many ways to walk the Camino as there are pilgrims. The traditional way is to carry everything on your back, staying in an Alburgue or hostel. These facilities generally have dormitory style lodging with common areas for sleeping, bathing and eating.

Full disclosure, that was not our Camino. We hired a booking company out of Dublin Ireland to assist us with pre-planning our trip. As a result, each day we had a private room with bath, morning and evening meals, and luggage transfers. We carried only a small daypack with snacks, first aid supplies, water, and rain gear if needed.

As we prepared for our trip, we found countless videos and books on every aspect of the journey. It’s easy to get overwhelmed with so much information available. We were surprised and grateful to learn about an organization called American Pilgrims on the Camino, with nearly 50 local support groups in the US., including one in Anchorage. Attending several events at REI before we left taught us much about what to expect.

On the advice of many, we incorporated five rest days throughout the trip, mainly in larger cities. We were not fluent in Spanish but we found that many locals spoke some English. And we communicated with a combination of our poor language skills, Google Translate, and hand signals.

Camino lesson #5: Not only a physical journey

This “walk” was more than a physical journey. The Camino was a metaphor for the path of life and offered us a chance to better know ourselves, each other, companions on our journey and God. In so many ways, this trip exceeded all of our expectations.

Every day was a blessing. Just to be able to physically complete the trip was not a certainty when we started. There was a financial cost to the trip, but we were blessed to be able to afford to do so.

The biggest blessings were far beyond the tangible accomplishment of reaching Santiago de Compostela. Wolfgang and I are still processing our journey, but we know beyond a doubt that it’s leading us into a deeper understanding of God and our life path.

Some guidebooks to the Camino label Santiago as the “turnaround point,” a place where you begin to head for home with a new perspective. I’m finding truth in this analogy as well. I’ve now been home almost as long as I was on the Camino and here’s what I know so far.

Spiritual lessons from our Camino

When God says go, he prepares the way.

We honestly weren’t sure we could pull it together after a very busy summer. But we kept feeling God’s urging to go and through his grace, a myriad of details came together in less than a month. He showed up in so many ways to give us the space, time and support we needed to go on this journey.

WHEN GOD PREPARES THE WAY, he prepares OUR HEARTS.

Going on the Camino felt daunting and uncertain. We didn’t know if we could walk 500 miles or would be able to manage the rigors of the trip. God worked in our hearts to let go of any expectation, and just take it a day at a time. He’s teaching us to be courageous about stepping into our life in this way also reimagining what the next 5, 10, 20 years might bring.

As we walk, God reveals the path.

The Camino taught us to be present in the moment, focused on the path in front of us, step by step. We knew we were on the right path as we saw the yellow arrows and scallop shell symbols that marked the way. Sometimes we had to search, and we got off course a couple of times, but markers inevitably appeared. Similarly, God gives us markers to guide us in life, though they’re not always as obvious.

It’s human to carry more than we need; God says lighten up.

Matthew 11:28 says, “for my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” The Camino reminded us that we “need” less than we think. We learned to pack lighter and trust that God and the Camino would supply our needs along the way as well. We’re incorporating this into our daily lives, continuing to cleanse and declutter our home and our schedules.

God is with us in the messy parts.

I struggled at many points along the trail but particularly during two back-to-back days in the middle. My feet hurt, I was mentally and physically tired, and I was emotionally exhausted. As if to remind me that I was never alone, even in the tough spots, God kept showing up with little gifts. When I think time on the Camino, what I remember most is a gracious hostess in a lovely house built over a river, a group dinner that filled my soul, a beautiful sunrise, and a new pair of more cushy sandals. God met me right in the middle of the mess, reminding me that He is always there.

God gave us companions for a reason.

He intends for us to share life with other people. The companionship on the trail was one of the most unanticipated blessings of the trip. When we met people, we already shared a common bond. We greeted each other with the trail greeting, “buen camino,” which means “good journey.”

As we walked and talked with people grieving the loss of a child or a spouse, or going through a divorce, or moving like us into retirement – we found a much larger perspective. We had genuine and open conversations about all aspects of life (grief, suffering, trial, yes but also joy, hope, perseverance). Conversation sharpened our sense of compassion and connected us deeply with people around us. It’s a joy to continue to connect and have conversations with friends and family now that we’re home.

Walking in nature is an act of worship and prayer.

As we walked each day, we could see and appreciate God’s presence in the brilliance of the sky, the way the clouds dance on the horizon, the splendor of the landscape. When we pay attention, his presence is front and center and invites practices of prayer and contemplation. On hills, a friend taught me to pray with each step, sometimes as simple as “The Lord is my shepherd, I have everything I need.” And indeed, each day, I did.

A Camino lesson for you?

Walking or taking a long pilgrimage isn’t for everyone. I hope that our journey inspires you to seek God or a higher power in your own unique path. Perhaps you too will find healing and joy in nature and companionship with others on a similar path in life. If you want to know more about our trip or ask me questions, follow me on social media or send me a note! I’m delighted to share! You can also watch our talk during the service at First Presbyterian Church of Anchorage.

I’ll leave you with this! God has a plan for your life that is bigger than you can imagine. Will you trust him to reveal it to you? Buen Camino!

Gratitude is a Camino lesson as well

A final note. We couldn’t have done this trip without support from our family and friends. Being away from home for seven weeks took planning and preparation, and a small cadre to care for our pets, water plants, and check in on our home. I’m also very grateful for the community surrounding my mom when my step-dad passed away – and her encouragement to continue on to Santiago.

The post Camino lesson: Walking is a metaphor appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

When you view life as a journey, it just makes sense to live it out with an adventure that puts to test my theory of living lighter — over an extended trip. We left Anchorage on August 24, 2023, bound for Spain and the Camino de Santiago, a 500-mile pilgrimage walk.

We acclimated in Barcelona, Spain for a few days before taking a train to Pamplona and a bus to Saint Jean Pied de Port, in France. We’re doing the Camino Frances, or French route, which stretches 800+ kilometers east to west across Northern Spain.

Why we’re doing this

We’ve talked about the Camino de Santiago for a while. Wolfgang retired at the end of May, officially beginning our stage of both of us no longer working. And we knew we wanted what he called a “cathartic journey,” one that allows us to process where we’re at in life — and where we’re going in this new phase.

The Camino checks the “living lighter” box for me: it’s a journey where we carry what we need each day. The Camino is physically challenging, spiritually based, and in a new environment. And, we’re far away from our normal daily routines and pushing ourselves each day! We’ve been away from home now for 11 days and on the Camino for three days.

Guiding principles for living lighter on the Camino de Santiago

Here are some of the principles I wrote down to guide me on this trip:

• Do my best to walk the entire way.
• Let my body, mind and spirit guide my pace.
• Take good care of myself, getting the food, water, and rest that I need along the way.
• Focus on the experience, setting aside life outside of the path I’m on (to the extent that I can), while also keeping in touch with family and friends.
• Listen for God’s whispers on my heart and soul.
• Journal daily and draw/paint to reflect on the journey.
• Learn to travel light, taking just what I need for the day.

Why now?

The timing is good for our journey. Over the past few months, we’ve celebrated our daughter’s doctorate degree, both of our 60th birthdays, and the wedding of our daughter and new son-in-law. We’ve enjoyed the (rainy) Alaska summer, sold our little “Covid cabin” and upgraded to a new larger cabin next door, and done a bit of remodeling. We all participated in my niece’s wedding. And, we spent extended time with our other daughter, son-in-law and grandson before they headed to South Korea for two years.

The summer couldn’t have been fuller! And doing the Camino de Santiago gives me a chance to step back from my life and look at the transition we’re already experiencing.

This trip is a perfect way to move into a new season of the year and a new season of life. Before setting out, I made another trip to Oregon to ensure that Mom and my step-dad were settled well. Just after I left, he broke his hip which is daunting news for and 82-year-old, particularly one with dementia. Fortunately, they did surgery and he returned to the Memory Care facility with good support before we left. I signed up for an international plan so I can continue to talk with mom daily. She’s amazed to be following our travels so closely from Oregon!

Living lighter when you’re on the move

We’re not staying in any one place very long! We stayed four nights in Barcelona but the rest of our trip consists of one- to two-night stays in different hotels or hostels. We used a booking company to arrange accommodations for the Camino itself, as well as our breakfasts and most dinners, and luggage transfers. We’ll stay in more than 30 hotels while we’re gone!

So how do you practice living lighter when you’re constantly on the move? We packed a bare minimum in clothing and toiletries, focusing mostly on the essentials for walking each day in a variety of conditions. Our gear includes backpacks, trekking poles, first aid kits, sun/rain hat, a rain coat or poncho, and perhaps an extra layer or change of clothes for the day, depending on the weather forecast.

Stay tuned for another update! You may not be on the road with me, but you’re on your own journey and I wish you the traditional greeting of the Camino de Santiago — Buen Camino!

The post A “living lighter” Camino appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

When the saying “betwixt and between” came to mind, I had to pause to look it up. I learned that the two words mean essentially the same thing, though betwixt is rarely used in present-day language.

Grammarphobia references the Oxford English Dictionary definition of betwixt and between as meaning “in an intermediate or middling position; neither one thing nor the other.” We’re neither here nor there, but somewhere in the middle.

Almost certainly, if you’re in midlife and you’re reading this, you are navigating change in one aspect or another of your life. And often, it’s not simply that we’re becoming “empty-nesters,” taking on an increasing role helping our parents, or searching for new fulfillment. We, and our family members and friends, undergo other changes, some positive and some downright challenging.

Being between seasons can be unsettling. So, as I often do, I look to nature for parallels to life. I hope these meandering thoughts will help you in this messy middle.

Betwixt and between is a messy season

Here in Alaska, we’re definitely “betwixt and between” winter and spring. Alaskans call this in-between season break-up, a nod to the messy process of melting snow, uncovering the dirty roads and whatever else has accumulated over the long winter.

“Break-up” has been my least favorite season for the past 37 years of Alaskan life. Usually, winter puts up a good fight before loosening her grip. Snow covers the ground yet, but one minute it’s crunchy and firm under my feet, the next it’s slush-snow on top of ice, wet and sloppy.

Summer seems far away. And, the weather app I use gives up on specifics, predicting instead a “wintry mix” of precipitation (snow or rain, who knows which when you’re hovering around the margins of freezing).

Most mornings, we choose to to continue our walks. With spikes on our shoes and growing light, we meander more than usual, avoiding puddles and potholes.

It’s not an easy time to walk through, with hit-or-miss footing and unpredictable weather.

But growth happens under the surface

Just as “a watched pot never boils,” it’s difficult to observe melting snow or personal transformation during change. It’s difficult to see or feel changes in ourselves when we’re going through them.

But much like the trees “wake up” from their long winter rest, we subtly change. In northern climates like Anchorage, the snow melts and the ground thaws. Water and nutrients reach the roots and draw up into the tree, mingling with the starches and sugars waiting. Sap begins to flow, carrying nutrients out to support new growth.

We undergo growth behind the scenes as well. Remember Transitioning through change? So important are these words from William Bridges, they bear repeating:

“Transition is not just a nice way to say change. It is the inner process through which people come to terms with a change, as they let go of how things used to be and reorient themselves to the way that things are now.”

William Bridges, revised by Susan Bridges, Transition as the ‘Way through

Similar to nature’s changing seasons, we go through an inner transition process. A reorienting process.

Betwixt and between is a process

We’re in motion. We’re on our way from there to somewhere. Once we loosen our grip on the past, we make way for today — and the future.

This in-between season is growing on me, perhaps because I’m learning to let go of what has been or even what’s to come. This “reorienting to the way things are now” takes practice. And while I can’t say I love the messiness of break-up, I’m learning to appreciate the season, not just for what it’s bringing — but for what it is.

When my friends and I set out on a walk at 9:30 this morning, the sun poked over the mountains to the east and shone through the trees. Out on the inlet, big brown ice chunks contrasted with snow-covered Mt. Susitna in the distance. And small LBJs (little brown-jobs), skittered and tweeted amongst the trees.

We saw a moose through leafless trees, my friend commenting that we wouldn’t have seen it in the summer as it would have been hidden by leaves. We moved a little faster up the hill than usual, holding the dogs close and watching to be sure she didn’t feel threatened and follow us.

We’re here, now, today. We saw the sun come up over the mountains, watched a moose carefully and at a distance, and heard the birds. Each day is different, a “wintry mix” of ugly and beautiful, and everything in between.

Somewhere betwixt and between lies hope

The roads have been worse than usual this year, everyone griping about the potholes and glaciated ice. I felt the same until the other day. My sister-in-law said smiling, as we bounced along ice-pocked roads, “It gives me hope!”

And I had to laugh and agree, reluctantly at first but with growing conviction. As gardeners, we know that there is a purpose in every season.

And in the bigger picture, though I may not see it now, I believe in a higher purpose.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Romans 8:28

Some days I’m bouncy and jarred, and yet there’s hope.

May you find hope betwixt and between the “wintry mix” of life. May you be mindfully present to your here and now. And may you know the strength and conviction of God’s good purpose for you.

The post Betwixt and between appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

We turned the pages of the calendar and there you are, 2022, a new year. You’re here and I for one, welcome you.

I’ve come to appreciate the transition from one year to the next. I’m learning to say a gentle farewell and an easy hello.

Saying hello to 2022 feels different

At the beginning of 2021, after the weight of the first year of the pandemic, the world seemed frenzied in anticipation of change. Overwhelmed by the pressure, Lighten Up 2021, was all I could think to respond.

And now, 2022 feels more like turning a page in a novel than starting a new book. Maybe it’s because I’m not expecting a whole new story.

Beauty in the in-between

There’s beauty in intentionally living in this in-between-ness, this transition from one year to the next. There’s peace in allowing the new year to settle on us like a soft mist, rather than expecting a sudden shift in weather.

Having one foot in 2021 and one in 2022 feels like a moment of grace. Before we dive into the new year, we have the opportunity to reflect on the past.

Naming the narrative

Emily P. Freeman says that naming the narrative helps us consider where we are in our own story. Naming things gives them importance and weight, helps us be specific, and gives us better understanding of underlying emotions and issues.

As I step into 2022, I sense a deep shift in my perspective. And I realize that I have changed this year. The arc of my story, my narrative, has shifted.

As I pause to reflect, I realize that the call I felt to lighten up my expectations for 2021 and let the year unfold, slowly and with purpose … this call wasn’t simply a rallying cry for the year. It was an invitation to a new way of living.

My word for 2021 was light and the invitation for my soul was to slow down, be less anxious, create a sustainable rhythm for my life. I wanted to look back on my year and this season of life — and see progress, growth and purpose.

Small, daily and tiny steps add up

I cleared out clutter, removing what didn’t bring me joy or serve a purpose. Instead of constantly moving, I focused on getting the rest I needed and gathering my strength. I quit pushing myself to do more and settled into sitting with my journal in the mornings, writing with quiet music in the background.

I craved solitude as much as connection with others, finding the place where my mind was “free from input from other minds” (Ketheldge & Erwin, Lead Yourself First). And, I realized that I also have to curate how much input my brain receives in order to process my own thoughts.

Intention is purpose coming to life

For me, the intention to live lighter was born from desperation, or at least exasperation. I was tired of living tired and overwhelmed. I wanted to claim God’s promise of rest for our souls. Where was the easy yoke and the light burden he promised? Why was I trying so hard and feeling so far behind?

Didn’t God promise us?

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:29-30

We’re meant to carry a specific burden

In August, as I shared my writing journey with the mastermind group that bolstered me through 2020, my friend Carrie told me that she’d learned oxen yokes were hand-carved for each ox. They were designed to fit the ox specifically so that the animal could pull efficiently and effectively.

If we’re using the yoke designed specifically for us, our burden will be light. When we let go of what’s not ours to carry, we can tune in to our unique design and carry what has been chosen for us.

Mostly, I’m learning, we have to let go of the false assumption that we’re in control. And, of trying to be in control. We have to live lighter, not try harder.

Light comes when we let go

For me, living lighter was a gradual and slow mindset shift. As I began last year, I began to think of myself as a curator of what belonged in my life and what didn’t.

Curators intentionally design spaces to be beautiful, thoughtful and meaningful. They curate objects or items purposefully, creating an intentional experience. They mindfully choose items to best tell the story.

I became a curator, asking myself again and again:

• What’s important and what do I need or want to keep in my life?
• What can I let go of today or what do I need to release?
• Where can I make space for what’s yet to come into my life?

And now, it’s hello, 2022

So what’s next for me? The narrative of living lighter remains: I’ll continue to declutter and clear physical spaces and the calendars. There’s more work to be done here, to simplify and reprioritize, to continue to curate my life. And, I’ll keep my grip soft and invite in the new as well.

My intention for 2022, my word, is mindful. The year 2022 beckons with the invitation to be a student of my own mind, to be intentional, and to keep carving away the unnecessary, making room for the essential.

As you say hello, 2022 …

What narrative will you name? How will you set mindful intentions?

May you step lightly into 2022, experiencing grace in the in-between-ness. May you sense God’s presence drawing you closer to him. And may you feel the call of your very own narrative pulling you deeper into your story.

The post Hello, 2022! appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

In times of change, we often experience difficult circumstances. Most of us want to recover quickly, but often we don’t understand how.

Resilience takes practice

First, we need to understand that resilience takes practice. We practice as we navigate the changing seasons of our lives.

“The good news is resilience can be learned. It involves developing thoughts, behaviors, and actions that allow you to recover from traumatic or stressful events in life.”

positivepsychology.com

We can develop our resilience by practicing the thoughts and behaviors that will help us recover from stressful events. Change is a constant and most of us will have countless opportunities to practice resilience in our lifetimes.

Characteristics of resiliency

Much resiliency research has been done in clinical settings, to help psychologists, psychiatrists and social workers treat conditions such as PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). One of the leading measures of resiliency is the Connor-Davidson Resilience Scale.

Researchers Kathryn M. Connor and Jonathan R.T. Davidson identified several components of resilience, including the ability to:

• Adapt to change
• Deal with what comes along
• Cope with stress
• Stay focused and think clearly
• Not get discouraged in the face of failure
• Handle unpleasant feelings such as anger, pain or sadness.

Resilient people view change as a challenge

A resilient person understands that change is inevitable and that it can be an opportunity as well as a challenge. She recognizes that she has limited control and controls what she can.

A resilient person recognizes that she has choices, if not in her circumstances at least in how she handles her reactions to them. She knows when to engage the support of others.

A resilient person is action-oriented and looks for a way forward when she encounters obstacles. She is patient and optimistic, and has a sense of humor. And she balances her own goals with those of her family and community.

A resilient person has faith. She has faith in herself, in the world, and in God.

How do we cultivate resilience?

We cultivate resilience by practicing how we view change. And, we stay positive and optimistic; relying on our faith and reaching out to others when we need help.

Above all, we stay flexible and observant, both of our own inner lives and the circumstances around us. When we slow down and pay attention, we have the opportunity to better process the changes and develop positive plans for moving forward.

Resilience has its own payoffs

And the more we practice, the more resilient we become. Resilient people handle stress much better than those who aren’t resilient. So, when you cultivate resilience, you’re helping yourself navigate change more easily.

You’re giving yourself the gifts of better mental health, lower stress levels, and a renewed sense of purpose in your life. And that’s all good!

The post Cultivate resilience appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

Most of us experience this shift into survival mode at some points in our lives. And unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for women in midlife. Sometimes we retreat into this mode when we’re experiencing overwhelming change. And sometimes it comes when we’re simply trying to stay afloat in an overly busy life. **

Survival mode is stressful

Survival mode doesn’t feel good and we’re not meant to live in this condition. Our bodies are great communicators, and usually, this is where we first notice the early signs of survival mode.

Under stress, our autonomic nervous system kicks into gear to protect us from danger. And depending on the dangerous (or perceived dangerous) circumstances, the body shifts into high gear (with fight, flight or “fawn” reactions) — or it shifts us metaphorically into low gear (and we become detached or in a “frozen” state).

What happens when we’re in survival mode

Our nervous systems react to stress or danger with both our sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems, parts of our brain. The sympathetic nervous system floods our bodies with cortisol and adrenaline when we need to act quickly. The parasympathetic nervous system operates when we are in a relaxed state — but it also shifts in to protect us without thought when needed.

“When your body goes into fight/flight/fawn or freeze, blood flow is directed away from the prefrontal cortex so that the energy can be distributed elsewhere. When you live only from the brain stem, everything else is ‘offline.'”

Aundi Kolber, Try Softer

Our nervous systems are running the show

When we’re in a fight, flight or “fawn” state, we’re operating out of our sympathetic nervous system. Experts call this state hyperarousal. We may have a racing pulse and physical shakes, and we often notice strong emotions such as anxiety, fear or anger. We may feel out of control or overwhelmed. In this state, another reaction is to “fawn” or over-accommodate people around us, seeking to calm them and our environment.

The parasympathetic nervous system reaction to stress is the freeze state, sometimes referred to as hypoarousal. In this state, our bodies react as if they’re protecting us from danger that we can’t escape. In extreme situations, we may feel paralyzed or frozen and unable to take action. But it can also present as feeling exhausted, depressed or simply zoned out. Sometimes we can feel numb, disconnected, or as though we’re observing ourselves from a distance.

So, how do we move beyond survival mode?

Self care has become a buzz word that really doesn’t go deep enough. But, we do have to begin with taking care of ourselves. In Try Softer, Aundi Kolber explains that we need to learn to be “kinder to the wounded parts of ourselves.” We have to embrace personal growth as a journey, not a one-time event.

I think this is particularly true for many of us in midlife. We’ve added on roles and responsibilities, pursuing education and careers, finding meaningful relationships (husbands), and having children. We’ve tried to take care of ourselves with hobbies, friends, and activities.

It’s in this dance that life became a balancing act. We neglected ourselves bit by bit, over time, and we need to give ourselves time to recover.

We must first notice we’re over-extended

For a long time, I didn’t recognize that I was in survival mode. I often felt behind, and I kept telling myself that I just needed to be more organized and efficient. Being caught up was over-rated, anyway, right?

I couldn’t name exact feelings, because I was so emotionally overwhelmed. It took me some time to realize that by not making choices in my life, I was making a choice.

And I’ve finally learned that trying to do it all was a “siren’s call” of distraction.

And then pay attention

As I’ve learned to listen to my body and recognize the signs of being in survival mode, I’ve let go of things and habits that don’t serve me. When we begin to pay attention to our bodies, minds and spirits, we can contemplate new ways of being that are kinder to ourselves.

And, as we make small changes, our bodies begin to trust us again, to know that we’re paying attention to them. It’s as if our whole system relaxes and we can begin to move forward. Experts tell us our nervous systems respond by stepping out of survival mode and allowing higher levels of our thinking brains to engage.

I’m learning, slowly, to trust myself, to listen and hear my own voice, to make conscious choices that support who I am and who I want to be.

I hope you’ll join me on this journey!

** If survival mode has become a way of life or you’ve experienced trauma, it’s important to consult a counselor or therapist!

The post Are you in survival mode? appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

Anchors vary from person to person. But often, anchors include our very deepest values (faith and love); spiritual practices (prayer or meditation); and, soul care practices (deep breathing, walks in nature). Many people also find anchors in creative pursuits (writing, painting, or making something); or in physical activity (walking or running, yoga).

Navigating change without anchors

Navigating change without anchors is much like navigating a boat in the ocean during a storm. We’re rocked by the changes and bounce around without control. As events buffet us around, we feel overwhelmed and uncertain.

During these times, our unconscious brain steps into action with fight, flight or freeze reactions driven from a place of survival. Essentially, our brain senses we’re in danger and jumps into “fix-it” mode without accessing higher-level thinking.

We need anchors to steady us

Anchors steady us and keep us from being tossed in random directions. In particular, Gorman says that in times of change we need “sea anchors,” a powerful type of anchor used in the open ocean to help boats ride out rough seas. These anchors keep the boat facing into the wind so it can ride out the storm without capsizing.

During turbulent seasons of change, we need deep, anchoring practices to stabilize us. These practices enable us to move beyond basic survival responses, calm our anxious nervous systems, and allow us to access higher executive functions.

Anchors steady us while we process change

We need these steadying practices to enable us to begin processing how we will move forward in a season of change. In the book “The Body Keeps the Score,” Bessel Van Der Kok, M.D., writes that the more aware we are of “our subtle sensory, body-based feelings,” the “greater our potential to control our lives.”

We have to slow down enough to recognize what we’re feeling so that we can begin to understand why we feel that way. Our anchors help us return to what we know to be true — and begin to pay attention to the signals our bodies, minds, and hearts are giving us about the change.

What are your anchors?

Most of us have multiple anchors. You’ll likely find several that you return to time and again. It’s important to notice what calms you — and avoid short-term fixes such as numbing your feelings or ignoring your problems.

When I’m navigating change, I use a variety of anchors. As I search for what I know to be true, I return most often to my faith and its grounding practices, walking and observing nature, and seeking out ways to be creative (writing, painting, taking photographs, etc.)

May you find healthy anchors …

Marian Wright Edelman, in her book, The Sea is So Wide and My Boat is So Small, wrote these words:

“God, we have pushed so many of our children into the tumultuous sea of life in small and leaky boats without survival gear and compass.

Forgive us and help them to forgive us.

Help us now to give all our children the anchors of faith and love, the rudders of purpose and hope, the sails of health and education, and the paddles of family and community

to keep them safe and strong when life’s sea gets rough.”

Marian Wright Edelman, The sea is so wide and my boat is so small

Let’s do this, first for ourselves — and then for our children as well!

The post Anchors for navigating change appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

Change sometimes happens unexpectedly and can have radical impacts on your life. Other times, change sneaks up faster than you anticipated, or simply gathers momentum as it cascades around you.

Snowballing change wreaks havoc

Just like the early winter storm here. We’re used to an earlier fall and winter than most of our friends and family in the “Lower 48” states. But, even Alaskans were not prepared for the heavy snow we received in East Anchorage in the third week of September.

The snow was so heavy that many trees fell or lost branches under the unexpected weight. Our local electric company reported: “This early season storm is even more challenging because the leaves on the trees make them heavier than they are in winter.”

When change snowballs we feel the weight

Just like the trees still sporting their still-yellowing leaves, unexpected and/or big changes easily overwhelm us. We feel the weight of changes that happen in our world.

But what we’re really feeling is the weight of our emotions about the change. We’re feeling the weight of the internal process we need to go through to adjust to the change.

Snowballing change requires internal adjustment

William Bridges identifies this internal change process as transition. And he says this about transition:

“The transition itself begins with letting go of something that you have believed or assumed, some way you’ve always been or seen yourself, some outlook on the world or attitude toward others.”

William Bridges, Transitions, p. 132

We need time to move beyond the overwhelming feelings associated with rapid or unexpected change. And, we must recognize that we all process changes in different ways.

You may find it helpful to talk with people who’ve been through a similar change. Or you may simply need time and space to process your thoughts and feelings. And, you may need both. Your experience will be uniquely yours.

Each of us has our unique “bowl of emotions”

Have you heard this analogy? My daughter, the one who’s moving, is also working on her master’s in social work. I love chatting with her about change and transformation because she always has a thoughtful and well-informed perspective.

Recently, she shared that her counselor had asked how she was feeling about the changes ahead for her and our son-in-law. When she described her feeling as overwhelmed, the counselor pulled out the “emotions bowl,” filled with slips of paper, each with an emotion.

Several minutes later, our daughter had a rather large pile of emotions in front of her. When change overwhelms, you can be quite sure that the weight you’re feeling needs some unpacking!

When change snowballs, so do the emotions

When you’re going through a season of change, it helps to be aware of this internal process. Change management experts, therapists, and counselors remind us to slow down during these times, to pay attention to what’s going on in our hearts, minds and bodies.

Each of us has our own bowl of emotions, swirling and sometimes even contradicting each other. And, if you’re empathetic, you may also be “feeling” the emotions of those around you.

Start with the ending

It helps to begin with the ending. By acknowledging the loss that we’re experiencing, we begin the important work of processing what the change means to us.

It’s not like I didn’t know that winter was coming, it’s just that it hit earlier and harder than I anticipated. And underneath that, I’m sad to let go of warmer days and spending time in my garden. I’m grappling with rearranging my schedule, my closet, and even my menu.

Likewise, I need to process the ending in our family. As I said goodbye to my son-in-law on Sunday and watched my daughter’s video of him driving away from their apartment this morning, I experienced a swirl of emotions.

Excuse me while I grab a tissue and that bowl — I’ve got some emotional unpacking to do! We’ll talk more about this process soon.

The post When change snowballs appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.

As our daughter and son-in-law prepare to move to his next duty station in North Carolina, the change looms close for us. He leaves in a week and she leaves in two months.

As the inevitability sinks in, the days spin fast and my mind tries to slow down time. Holding onto the essence of our lives now and taking in every detail of our time together becomes the goal.

Holding tight is natural

We can’t stop time, though we try. I want to capture these fleeting moments like fireflies in a jar, savoring them for later. It’s a delicate balancing act, this, hovering in the moment while also trying to preserve it.

But I’m doing my best to hold my family tight. We coordinated a weekend together at our little cabin to make some good memories. And, overdue for a family photo, we slipped in a photo shoot to record us all together before they move 3,500 miles.

Yet we need ways to process our changes

William Bridges’ transition model helps us do the internal work of navigating change in three distinct phases: Endings, neutral zones and beginning. The first phase of transitioning through change is an ending, or letting go.

Bridges, in his book Transitions, discusses five aspects of the natural ending experience: disengagement, dismantling, disidentification, disenchantment, and disorientation. Understanding these aspects can help us move more healthily through seasons of change.

Transitions are turning points in our lives

Our kid’s move is a transition for all of us, an ending to this phase of our lives. In my heart, I know we will never quite be the same as we are now as a family.

Transitions are turning points. And, to fully experience the transformation we must work through the natural ending experience. We need to grieve change, accept the loss it brings.

And Bridges’ transition model is a helpful guide. As you navigate your own changes, you may find yourself in one or more of the phases below. Though, as with Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief, the stages may not present themselves neatly and tidily (or sequentially).

Common phases in an ending

Bridges used psychological terms in his model, noted in the parenthesis below. I prefer the bold-face words:

1. Letting go (disengagement) — In the initial stages of an ending, it’s important to separate yourself from familiar roles and behaviors. You have to let go of what was in order to make room for what will be.
2. Living broken (dismantle) — This phase can be a long, slow and sometimes confusing stage when what used to be is no longer there, but you haven’t yet established a new way. It’s similar to living in the middle of a home remodel and can be quite chaotic.
3. Drifting (disidentification) — In this murky middle, you may no longer identify with your old self. As we let go of roles and identity, we may not know who we are becoming. Many of us experience this when our kids leave home or we retire: “I was a mom or a nurse” and “now I don’t know who I am.”
4. Unraveling (disenchantment) — In this phase, you begin to see your prior state for what it was and acknowledge that some part of the old reality was “in your head.” Bridges describes an enchantment as a “spell cast by the past on the present.” Here, we acknowledge the misperceptions, “look below the surface of what has been thought to be a certain way,” and most importantly, begin to explore options for living differently.
5. Get comfortable being uncomfortable (disorientation) — Bridges describes this phase as “a time of confusion and emptiness when ordinary things assume an unreal quality. Things that used to be important don’t seem to matter much now.” We may feel stuck or lost, unable to make decisions.

Holding tight in a changing season is natural

Recognizing that endings lead to new beginnings can help us navigate the change more easily, when we’re ready. Often, as we let go of what has been and move forward, we first experience a neutral zone. You may find you need more time alone, space to be still.

But, eventually, as you do the hard work of processing an ending, you’ll begin to explore. You’ll transform. You’ll grow.

In the meantime, it’s okay to hold on. It’s a natural part of the process. Save the waterfall for tomorrow. It’ll come soon enough!

Other resources on navigating change

• Winds of change
• A season of letting go
• Transitioning through change
• Beginnings, middles and endings

The post Holding tight in a changing season? appeared first on Elaine Junge, Writer & Blogger.