As I write this roofers are making a racket above me, as they strip every single shingle from my house. The living room is filled with the contents of one bedroom; my dining room with the second. I joke that I feel like a real hillbilly – as the contents of my garage are housed on my front porch. My yard is filled with deep ruts and patches of bare dirt.

All this is a result of a tornado that hit our home on April 19^th.  No one was hurt but the damage to our home, cars, yard and majestic 100-year-old oak trees was substantial.

It’s been an interesting time – as it plopped me right into the kind of transition process that I make a living helping others through. It was me that had to say good bye and grieve the old, and me that had to gut it out, roll up my sleeves and work through the physically demanding work of hauling, moving, clearing and repairing.

In our work we use a change model from Robert Bridges. Actually, Bridges would tell us that it is not the changes themselves that get us unglued as much as the transition. Change is the physical manifestation – in my case the tornado. The tough part for us is the transition or the psychological shift. The change can be swift – in less than one minute great damage was done. The transition can be seemingly endless. I find myself quite impatient, knowing that things will be in disarray at my home for many, many months and perhaps an entire year.

Bridges describes three broad segments of the transition process: Endings, Transition and New Beginnings. Endings occur when we recognize that the old ways must (and will) go. New Beginnings occur when we begin to solidly incorporate the change into the way we think, act and feel.

The transition zone is the middle space – where we are not quite what we used to be, and not yet what we need to be. It is the place that many of us dread. I call this time mystical, as the future state is not very clear yet – often a true mystery.  In this middle spot we can yearn for the past. We get apprehensive about the future. We wonder if it will work. We question if we are capable. We are slower and less productive. It can be confusing. Unsettling. Exhausting.

So as I navigate the magical, mystical, maddening middle, I continually remind myself of the magic. Although I would never have chosen to have this happen, it clearly presents opportunities. I’ve wanted to clear clutter out of those two bedrooms – this forces the issue. I’ve always been limited to shade plants – and now the sun can reach my flower beds. I’ve gotten to know my neighbors better. And I’ve seen real and tangible manifestation of how wonderful my friends, family and even complete strangers are as they provided an amazing outpouring of help and support.

So here is live, real time report from deep in the middle – the transition zone. It is unsettling and uncomfortable and disconcerting. It is also a necessary time to work through – and to come out in a better place – however it is that you want that to be. The choice is yours.