Episode 41: Three Words That Make A Lovely Gift

What if you could give yourself a gift—right in the middle of the mess, the waiting, or the in-between? In this episode, I’m sharing three simple words that have helped me feel more centered (read less impatient!) during life’s longer journeys. If you're adjusting to something new and it's taking more time than you expected, these words might be just what your heart needs. They’re gentle, grounding, and a lovely little gift you give to yourself...or someone else.  Come find out what they are.

If you're in the middle of a transition right now and you've been thinking, “Shouldn’t I be further along by now?” Let's chat. I'd love to help you untangle that thought (or any others that make your bridge feel extra long).  Grab a time that works for you for a free mini session and let’s make your journey feel a little lighter.

Full Transcript:

You're listening to the Think New Thoughts Podcast with Emily Ricks, episode number 41. Three words that make a lovely gift.

I'm Emily Ricks, and this is Think New Thoughts, a life coaching podcast to help you find more joy in your relationships. In each episode, I'll share a simple idea that will help you see things in a new way, so you can love God, your neighbor, and yourself more deeply than you ever have before. If you're ready to literally change your mind, I think you'll like it here.

Life is full of transitions. From the day we're born, we begin transitioning from one phase of life to the next. Babies learn how to roll, and sit, and crawl, and then walk. And from there, it's one transition after another as they learn to talk, and use the bathroom, and read, and write, and take their own shower.

It's a transition to go from summer to fall, or spring to summer. It's a transition to go to the next grade, or the next school, or the next house, or the next job, to get married, or have a child, or get divorced, or go through menopause. We're constantly transitioning from one state to the next.

I like to think of a transition as a bridge. Some bridges are longer than others, and take more time to cross. Puberty is a bridge that takes three years, five years, seven years to walk across.

The bridge from adolescence to adulthood is even longer, I think. Who even knows how long the bridge is? It's different for different people. My oldest turned 20 this year, and he was asking me, so does this mean I'm an adult now? And I was like, well, I don't really know the answer.

In some ways, yes, but in other ways, like being financially independent, probably not. I told him I felt like I was transitioning into adulthood for about 10 years. I didn't fully feel like an adult when we were getting through college and other schooling, even though I was married and had kids by that point.

Buying our first house was a big step across that bridge, but it wasn't actually until I was pregnant with my third baby, and we got a minivan. I was standing in our backyard one day, adding up all the pieces, and I went, huh, I think I'm an adult now. Isn't that funny? I mean, technically, I became an adult when I turned 18, but really the process was a transition, a really long bridge that had a lot of pieces to it.

I don't know if we get it from Hollywood or Instagram or where it comes from exactly, but I noticed this in myself, and I see it in other people, that we tend to get frustrated during a transition because we think it should be happening faster than it is. Imagine walking across the Grand Canyon on a massive bridge. It's like 18 miles across, and after two miles, imagine being like, why am I not on the other side yet? This shouldn't be taking so long.

It's like, yeah, it should. It's a long way to the other side. This is exactly how long it should take to get from one side of the Grand Canyon to the other.

That's how a lot of big transitions are in real life. We don't just snap our fingers and get from point A to point B. It's a process. It's supposed to be.

It's supposed to take a long time. We don't learn how to drive a car in one day. We don't learn how to speak English or any other language in a day.

It takes months and years, but sometimes we forget that and get really frustrated and discouraged that we can't wave a magic wand and instantly become the next version of ourselves. So here are three words I like to tell myself when I notice that I'm getting frustrated, that something is taking too long or feeling too windy for my tastes. These three words help me to be patient and compassionate with myself and others as we adjust to something new.

Three words. You ready? Here they are. Honor the transition.

I first came up with this phrase about five years ago when I got a new insulin pump. I was so excited to get the latest technology on the market and basically go from a flip phone to an iPhone in terms of what my pump can do and how it can help me manage my blood sugars. It arrived in the mail and I got some online training and I couldn't wait to start using it.

As it turned out, the learning curve was steeper than I expected. The procedures were a little more complicated than I thought they would be. It took way more time and mental energy than I thought it was going to, to learn everything there was to learn.

The beeps were different, the interfacing was different, the supplies were different, and I somehow hadn't prepared myself for the scope of changes that I would need to make to navigate the transition from my old pump to my new pump. I'd been using an insulin pump, wearing one 24-7 for 15 years of my life, so I thought it would just be a quick adjustment, but it wasn't. I needed to read manuals and watch videos of how to load the insulin, change the infusion sites, fill the tubing, adjust the settings, change the ratios, and integrate new apps and technologies.

I needed to clean out the entire section of my dresser that had the old infusion sites and cartridges and testing strips and create new containers and new organization for all the new supplies. I needed to contact my insurance and my pharmacy and my doctor and make adjustments to prescriptions and ongoing shipping orders. I needed to retrain my brain to respond to different beeps and alerts and alarms.

For low blood sugar and high blood sugar and signal loss and low reservoir and blocked tubing, there were all these different noises than what I was used to, and this actually disrupted my daily routines a lot more than I expected it to. I needed to start a new routine of charging my pump every morning while I showered, rather than replacing the battery every month or so. Not any one of these things was a huge deal, but all of it together ended up requiring a lot more physical, mental, and emotional resources than I had anticipated.

Has this ever happened to you? I thought I was just going to hop across a little stream, and I ended up on this huge bridge that was a lot longer than I thought it was going to be. I felt guilty that I was overwhelmed by all the details. Like, okay, this isn't that big of a deal.

Just figure it out already. I felt guilty that I wasn't feeling more grateful for my new pump that I had been so excited to get. And honestly, I felt a little bit ashamed that I wasn't navigating this change more quickly.

After some journaling and reflection, I realized that actually nothing was wrong. All of this was part of the transition, and I could be grateful for this new incredible machine and at the same time be a little bit tired from all the changes I was adjusting to. So that's the phrase I held onto for several weeks, honor the transition.

It was like saying, yeah, Emily, you're on a bridge. We're going from one place to another. There's nothing wrong with you.

You're just a human being going through a transition, and it's going to take some time. When I started thinking that thought, honor the transition, it helped me feel less frustrated, less guilty, and less impatient. It helped me accept myself where I was and accept the situation for what it was.

And I started thinking of ways that I could take care of myself during this change. Allow a little more time to adjust to things. Maybe see if you can get a little more sleep for the next few weeks as you're managing all of this.

Take more deep breaths. Let yourself feel whatever you feel. These are the types of things I started saying to myself as I was thinking about honoring the transition.

This is going to be a little messy and that's okay. It will require some additional resources for a little bit. That's part of the deal.

Honor the transition. I really do think of these three words as a gift. Honor the transition.

This phrase helps me feel more centered, more grateful, and more joyful as I'm crossing bridges in my life. So whether you are transitioning into a new insulin pump, a new grade, a new job, a new relationship, a new calling, a new house, a new baby, a new diagnosis, or even just a new haircut, give yourself the gift of patience as you wobble your way through the transition. These three words can also be a gift for others.

When someone else in your life is driving you crazy and you feel frustrated and annoyed with them, I want to invite you to consider what transitions they might be going through in their life right now. And how can you honor their transition? How can you demonstrate patience as they imperfectly make their way across this bridge that's probably longer and steeper than they want it to be? Honor the transition. Honor the time it will take them to become the next best version of themselves.

Here's some final encouragement for you today. If the bridge you're crossing feels longer than you expected, if the path is windier and steeper than you thought it would be, or if you're just plain tired of being in between, remember this, tribulation work with patience and patience experience and experience hope. This transition isn't just getting you somewhere, it's giving you something.

It's shaping you into someone who is more grounded, more resilient, and ultimately more full of hope if you let it. You are becoming. So rather than asking, how can I make this bridge shorter so it takes less time? Try asking, how can I honor this transition? And then take a breath, be gentle with yourself or your toddler or your teenager or your aging parent, and keep putting one foot in front of the other, however long it takes.

If you're walking across a bridge in your life and you've been thinking, shouldn't I be further along by now? This is your reminder. Nope. You should be exactly where you are.

And if you want some help untangling that thought or any others that make your bridge feel extra long, let's chat. Grab a free mini coaching session at emilyrickscoaching.com/mini-session. And let's make your journey feel a lighter.