I think about transition a lot. That point in labour where I didn’t think I could go on. Where I wanted to run and quit, where giving up felt like the only option. Where I was completely overwhelmed and exhausted and the thought of existing like that for any longer didn’t seem possible.
And then I remember how soon after I was holding my daughter. How proud I felt, how strong and capable and fierce. And how incredibly worth it all of that effort was.
I didn’t think I could do it and yet I did.
I think about transition a lot. Because I think they happen everywhere.
And one of the most powerful things I have realised in life for me is that often the moment where it feels the hardest, too hard. That is when I am so very close to making it through.
I am constantly asking myself; am I really at my limit or is this transition?
When it gets hard, I find myself excited and I’m often inspired to go harder.
I want to believe it is that last sprint to the finish line. I want to believe I am more capable than I can imagine. I want to make it.
And every time I do, that belief grows.
And even if I don’t? I find satisfaction in what I have given. I’m not left with what ifs.
I think about transition a lot. Because when I think I’m going to break, it’s so often a part of the process of becoming something new.
That pain, that discomfort, that overwhelm is not something I want to avoid, it’s necessary; it’s transition.