monday evening i went to a “what happens to the kids when a parent is coming and going” seminar. i came away with all kinds of things to think about. like how we handle michael’s comings and goings. which i think, for the most part, we don’t so much handle them. we just sort of absorb them. there’s no time between the return and the leaving to have a proper hello or a proper goodbye – whatever that might look like – they’re so constant that if we took any time to try to deal with his return he’d be out the door again before we were done. but one of the handouts/tools/charts the speaker/counselor gave us was the transition bridge. i’d never seen it before, but many had, it’s apparently not an uncommon tool used in cross cultural training. and it’s got me thinking. not so much about what’s happening with the kids when michael’s coming and going and coming and going and coming and going and coming and going and coming and going… you get the picture.
it’s had me thinking more about our move here. and what we did not do to prepare for it. and all that. i actually spend a fair amount of time thinking about this. especially with our trip home coming up… i’m wondering what might rear it’s ugly head because we didn’t do the whole move thing right. so you can see what i’m talking about, here’s the bridge.
and for the purpose of comparison here’s what i think the bridge might look like with the steps we actually did well.
and i’m not sure exactly where that leaves me. have i been shot into the cloud of chaos? am i doggy paddling in the river of transition? i’m certain i’m no longer safely on the shores of belonging. but have i even touched the banks of entering, coping and belonging? (i do think i have, but i’m an all or nothing girl. so i have difficulties recognizing this.)
one thing i do know is that i feel very tightly wound. one good jostle and i’ll come undone and it might not be too pretty.