The Art of Endbeginnings

I?planned?on taking August off?but started?hearing so much?chatter about the underappreciated passage of becoming an empty nester that I couldn't help but send you this note.?Anyone who has gone through this?transition needs to know a beautiful (made-up) word I've learned:?Endbeginnings.?

I?encountered?Endbeginnings?several years ago when I read Dr. Rachel Remen's (highly recommended) book, Kitchen Table Wisdom. I remember thinking it was a witty play on words but kept reading on with barely a pause. A few years later, just around the time I became an Empty Nester, I re-read Rachel's book, and this concept stopped me in my tracks.?

Becoming an Empty Nester is the epitome of Endbeginnings and a double dose of challenge. You are experiencing both a change (what happens from a practical point of view on the outside) and a transition (the internal experience associated with that external change). BAM!?

In a recent interview, Dr. Bob Waldinger, Director of the Harvard Study of Adult Development, provided evidence that becoming an Empty Nester can be a gateway to higher levels of marital satisfaction and to new learnings and experiences you never expected or dreamed possible. As a?seasoned Empty Nester?I can attest to?an increased sense of self, joy, freedom and possibility. But I needed some help in getting there.

As I delightfully prepare to lead an Empty Nester workshop at MEA's spectacular new place in Santa Fe,?I decided to revisit some of the things that brought me the wisdom I craved during those years. I found this handwritten diary-like note that I had stashed in between the pages of Kitchen Table Wisdom:

"I've been here before launching Mitch, and then Jill off to college. But this time, its flavor is unique, sweet and sour in a sharper way. (My youngest)?Matt recently left for college. The house is quiet. The refrigerator is empty. I miss his friends showing up to hang out. I miss his energy, enthusiasm, and silliness and the role of a mom with kids at home. That life chapter has ended, and it feels heavy.

At the same time, the house is quiet—yay! I can shop for the things Scott and I want to eat— I can even skip dinner if I like! I can travel more, take the Italian language seminar I've been putting off, become a regular at that evening yoga class… It's an ending but a beginning as well. And it feels kind of exciting. The question is, how will I focus my emotional energy? Part of me feels unfaithful to what has now been a 25-year life chapter if I move on. How can I move on from what has become a primary identity? What does it say about me if I don't center myself in this role? So many questions… so few answers."

That was written about 10 years ago. In retrospect, one of the most important things I recognized was that during the tumultuous, then mundane, then tumultuous years as a parent with a child at home, it was often more common to feel more like a human doing than a human being.?

I decided to use some of the energy I put towards my kids to support raising myself up. I created hacks like back-ending activities when I would normally have committed to my children. I would grocery shop or get my nails done towards the end of the day when I would typically greet Matt as he came home from school or sports. I decided to commit to shifting my focus toward the future and the possibilities that await.

Becoming an Empty Nester is one of life's most significant transitions. Many of us are anxious about the very concept. Some resist the transition of figuring out what our lives can be, while others are excited just thinking about it but know they must develop an approach or plan.

Which leads me to questions for you:

What if you treated yourself like someone you love?

What if you saw this endbeginning as an opportunity to reclaim yourself? Your relationship? Your health and wellness?

Join me on a beautiful, regenerative ranch in Santa Fe to unearth the wisdom you'll need for one of life's most significant transitions.