For the past 6 months or so, I’ve found myself atleast once per week, gliding through the light blue chlorinated waters of the city pool in our neighborhood here in Porto. I’m not normally a regular swimmer, but amidst pregnancy the anti-gravity-ness of moving in water has felt so good. Most days, as I change into my suit and pull on the required swim cap, the dressing room is filled with older Portuguese women either coming or going from their water aerobics class. Water aerobics, I’ve learned, is quite popular. No matter what time of day I drag myself to the pool for my laps it is almost guaranteed that half of the pool is filled with 50-ish energetic water aerobics attendees. Music blasting, arms flailing, colorful caps and suits everywhere, beautiful wrinkled skin and laughter.
They often comment on my pregnant belly, “How much longer now?” “It’s beautiful!” “A boy or a girl?” and countless wishes from them for happiness and also the Portuguese blessing “May it be a quick hour!”
I’m not sure how much I’ll really miss being pregnant, but I will miss these kind interactions and well wishes from strangers and the unexpected camaraderie of my fellow pool goers.
On a recent visit to the pool my punch card had run out and in refilling it I needed to decide how many more swims to put on it. My eyes filled with tears a bit as I looked at the woman at the desk and said, “Gosh, how many more swims do you think I have left before this baby comes? How many swims should I buy?”
I can’t explain how I can at once wish for pregnancy to be over and also not want it to end. And how after all these months I am still in disbelief that this is actually happening and that soon there will be a new human in the world.
Reality did sink in atleast for a moment when re-filling my pool pass. Though since, I’ve continued to find myself simultaneously in a state of both disbelief and deep knowing that a big change is very near.
There are many things I have learned in becoming a coach, some were part of my training, others practice has taught me, and so much that I’ve gleaned from coaching alongside clients who are moving through change and transition. As much of my work centers around this topic, the lessons that stick with me most closely have to do with the phases and traps of transition.
As I approach the birth of this baby (obviously a big change) I am utterly grateful for the framework I’ve learned, that it’s not the change that will catch you off guard - it’s the transition (or internal processing of that external change). Another crucial piece of that framework is that:
Transition begins with an ending (not a beginning).
Prior to this framework, I, like may of us who have grown up in cultures where the emphasis is on beginnings, tended to focus my energy and excitement on beginnings while ignoring endings. Thus, endings would often sneak up on me or catch me off guard once I’d jumped into something new. It would often be well into a new beginning that I’d find myself discombobulated, full of unprocessed emotions and grief for what had ended and been left behind.
“Don’t let the ending surprise you, transition begins with an ending.” - William Bridges.
Of course, just knowing that transition begins with an ending won’t necessarily make it easier. It has however gifted me with awareness to prepare for endings, to expect them and to accept that they are part of the process of transition, part of life.
People I coach are often looking for a new beginning, recognizing that it’s time to move on from something or become something new. That process is often a combination of excitement and ambiguity. One of my biggest observations is that even when people are completely ready for the next thing, when what they are stepping into is incredibly “right” for them and a positive change STILL we need to process what is being left behind. There is often some combination of grief, celebration and gratitude to reckon with and make space for and of course some “letting go” that needs to happen.
So my friends, don’t let those endings sneak up on you and knock you off your feet. Welcome them. They are natural and part of the process. I’m practicing and deepening my own experience of this right now. As I step into a great and beautiful new beginning and role as a parent, I’m also leaving behind days of pregnant swimming that unexpectedly have been truly delightful. More than that it’s the ending and culmination of life as I’ve known it and many seasons that have been so good to me. I am simultaneously saying goodbye to what has been, whilst steeping myself in deepest gratitude for it. And of course, also grateful and excited for what is to come.
Here’s to new seasons and chapters - endings, beginnings and all of the in between!