August Newsletter: Bringing Honorable Closure to Your Chapter
Hello Neighbor,
As we enter August, we inch towards the upcoming transitions of late summer. Some young adults will soon be heading to college, kids are coming home from camp, and teens anticipate going back to school. Adults may be preparing for a busy season of work or getting ready for the High Holidays.
Transitions like these are naturally a little fraught. We can be excited for what’s next and still feel grief about moving on and turning towards something new and unknown. It requires care and self-awareness to make these transitions successful and to close the book on our previous chapters.
Sometimes change can be even more complicated. We might already be reckoning with difficult times in our lives, or the upcoming transition might be one we didn’t want to happen at all.
When we are negotiating several threads of pain or discomfort we may consciously or subconsciously choose to put the grief associated with our transition on the backburner, putting some of our pain in a holding pattern and our minds in a confusing space.
What does it look like to close a previous phase and move forward into a new stage of our lives? How can we reckon with this even when the transition is unpleasant, challenging, or unwelcome?
Mindfulness author Linda Curtis calls honorable closure the process of “ending a segment of life by tending to the details, despite any discomfort.” To me, honorable closure is a phrase I like to use to describe taking stock of what we have learned, what we may regret or feel proud of, and what we feel grateful for from a period in our lives. When we are experiencing these changes in our lives, whether it’s retirement, a new job, or moving to a new city, it is important to attempt to find this mindful practice while we are in the process of transitioning. This allows us to take what we need to with us as we grow and evolve, rather than grappling with who we once were and the regrets or nostalgia of our past.
When you are navigating a transition that is laced with resentment, grief, or hurt, finding this kind of closure might spark some defensiveness. Why would we take part in this kind of ritual when we might not even want this change?
There are a few meaningful distinctions here to note. Firstly, this process is not intended for closing the door on mourning the people we have lost. We can seek closure for a chapter of our lives while keeping those who have passed close. Honorable closure is for our own experiences; people who have died will live on within us, and our relationships to them will continue.
Secondly, approaching closure as a ritual doesn’t ask us to look at our situation with rose-colored glasses. This is an opportunity to approach life with honesty, reflection, and accountability. Only you can attend to your own emotions, and only you have the power to forge a healthy connection between your past and your future.
How can you attend to an upcoming transition in your life with more self-insight, attention and care? I wish you the very best as you attend to the pain and beauty inherent in change. Below are some questions you may want to ask yourself to navigate this time.
What am I saying goodbye to?
What am I saying hello to?
What am I grateful for about this experience?
Am I acknowledging all of my feelings? Are there any that feel uncomfortable to face?
What regrets do I have from this time? What am I proud of?
How can I mark this transition? Is there a physical or tangible way I can bring celebration, recognition, or mourning to this moment?
Is there anything I have left unresolved, either with others or within myself?
In Solidarity,
Maggie Feinstein