There are a lot of changes this time of year. Summer turns to fall, and the fun of camp makes way for the classroom. My daughter will be starting first grade at a new school, and riding the bus for the first time. She is as change-averse as I am, so we are trying to work through the transitions together. I have enlisted her older brother's help in walking her through some school activities, like getting her lunch in the cafeteria and saying the Pledge of Allegiance, which was not part of Montessori school. She is nervous, but seems to be excited, too.
My own changes are also approaching. I will be cutting my hours at work and turning over my practice in one office to another provider. Someone new, whom I don't know. I have a lot of ambivalence, even though this is a change I initiated, and that I know will allow me to move forward in exciting ways. I feel an obligation to my patients, understandably, and want to know they are well cared for. Underlying this, I'm certain, is a desire to control the transition. I have to trust that the new person will treat "my" patients well.
Both transitions will require an element of letting go. Change means that we adapt to new situations and continue to move forward, releasing our grip on the past. My daughter will have to learn new ways in first grade, things that will be very different from her former school. In my own transition, I have to accept letting go of some patients so I can incorporate new techniques into my work. My daughter hasn't known another way, and will have to trust her teacher and the other kids in her class. I am forging my own way, and have to trust my intuition that I will find my direction. Change can be scary, but we can't reach our full potential if we stay stuck. I am expecting some growing pains for myself and my daughter, but I'm certain we will move ahead with the support of family and friends.