Transition is the process of changing from one state or condition to another. It is moving forward. It is what we, as humans, are designed to do. To put one foot in front of the other. To make progress.
And here at the Roske house, we are in a major state of transition right now. The kids are back in school, we have welcomed a foreign exchange student for the year, and I am launching my own business. (Spoiler alert, if you’ve been wondering what is next for me, Vamonos Executive Coaching is coming soon!!!)
Despite our excitement for these changes and the new that lies ahead of us, I see all of us getting stuck in the old. We are fighting our old patterns, old habits, and the muscle memory that has been built up over months and years about how things were or should be. I see it as my kids long for the carefree days of summer despite the fact that they were SO BORED only a few days ago. I see it as my family welcomes our exchange student while also trying to figure out how we all co-exist as a family of six.
And it is totally me right now. I have been gone from my old position as a PwC partner for a month. Although I am relishing my new role as founder and CEO of my own company, I find that I am fighting myself and the patterns that made me successful. For 25 years, I felt like I was running a race that required me to constantly sprint. There were times throughout the year – the start of the fiscal year, receiving my financial goals, the beginning of a new project – where I could hear a starting gun go off in my head. From that moment, I would be in a sprint, running as fast as I could, hellbent on getting somewhere as quickly as possible.
As I sit here today, the feeling that I need to sprint continues to creep into my thoughts at regular intervals. I find myself anxious that I am not doing enough, not working hard enough, not keeping the pace that I have kept over the past 25 years. At the same time, I find myself wondering if I really need to keep that pace. My overall feeling is one of frustration. My muscle memory keeps me holding onto old habits, when what I want is to move quickly into my new ways of being. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that.
I recently experienced a much more simplistic pull between muscle memory and a new reality when my family recently took a trip back to Oaxaca, Mexico, where we spent eight months during COVID. During the trip we were able to stay at our old house. It was wonderful; reliving memories, walking the neighborhood, playing with the cats that live there. We were home!
BUT the owners had moved some items in the kitchen, including the trash can. For two weeks, everyone in my family walked our trash to the side of the kitchen where the trash can used to be. The side where the trash can no longer was. At first, we were frustrated that the trash can had been moved. We thought about moving it back to “our side,” but that would have involved moving other things, including the refrigerator. It seemed like too big of an effort, so we dealt with it. Eventually, the frustration faded into amusement. It was amusing that the hard wiring of our muscle memory forced us to the wrong side of the kitchen without thought every single time!
I find myself thinking of that trash can a lot these days, especially when I get frustrated that my old habits are seemingly preventing me from moving forward. But rather than berate myself for falling into my old habits of trying to get everything done as quickly as possible, I am trying to capture amusement. I remind myself that if I built muscle memory of where a trash can lived in eight months, it will certainly take me longer than one month to unlearn 25 years of ingrained sprinting behavior.
Instead, I am choosing to adopt an attitude of grace and trust. I am offering grace to myself. Like in meditation, when thoughts break through, I am acknowledging my desire to move fast while also releasing the frustration and focusing on the progress that I am making. I am also choosing to trust the process. Rationally, I know that launching a business doesn’t happen overnight. I am building the foundation, which takes time and may not be seen as the fun part of construction. I am choosing to build my new reality at a pace that works for me.
Transitions are hard, but they do happen. And my transition will, too – little by little. When you stop fighting the old, you can make room for and step into the new. Day by day, I take steps into my future. And that is exciting!