You can feel it can’t you?

Like racehorses lined up at the gate.

Like a dam about to bust.

Like globally-minded, would be (or former) world travelers and serial expats who haven’t been on an airplane (or put on pants) in over a year.

The tension is mounting.

We’re lined up. Anxiously and impatiently waiting for the CDC and the WHO to pull the trigger on that stupid starter pistol.

We’ve been grounded.

Wheels down.

AND (as you would expect when humans are involved) it hasn’t been pretty. Our worst bits came out. Things got ugly. We pointed fingers and called names. We shamed each other. We canceled each other. We jumped on political and social bandwagons and tried to crush each other with naughty words and hilarious memes.

We showed our teeth and our true colors. The masks came off as soon as the masks went on.

And now.

We can see the faintest, slightest, tiniest inkling of a glimmer of the possibility of the potential of a fraction of hope.

We’re not jumping the gun.

We’re waiting.

We’re skeptical.

We’re cynical.

We’re broken.

But we are SO READY.

So what is life going to look like now? If and when this surreal nightmare comes to an end (whatever that means), how are we going to go about the process of rediscovering (or maybe redefining) normal?

We’ve been speculating those questions since this thing began but most of the theories and guesses have been formed in the “normal” world. Going back to school. Getting back in the office. Returning to the theaters and the restaurants and the concerts (remember those?) and all of the places where dozens or hundreds or thousands of people smash themselves together and only give each other the regular diseases.

But there is a twist to this story.

Thousands — probably hundreds of thousands of people will be moving this year into a NEW, NEW NORMAL Relocating to a new place. Starting a new role. Moving to a new country. Returning to an old one.

Transitioning from one way of life into a COMPLETELY different one while simultaneously recovering from the most globally impacting event in the history of … well, history.

Transition into a new thing is challenging enough but compound that with the impact and inevitably long lasting remnants of the last year and it gets down right complex.

If you’re standing at the gate, staring at big changes on the tail end of bigger changes, you’re in for the race of your life.

Here are three critical thoughts to tuck away as you consider what this incredibly complex, multi-layered next leg of your journey is going to look like.

BUT FIRST ONE DISCLAIMER

This is not rocket science. This is nothing revolutionary or groundbreaking and quite frankly, you would be good to apply ANY of these under ANY circumstances at ANY stage of life.

AND

ESPECIALLY right now — they are game-changers.

These four golden nuggets will transform your next. They are the difference between taking the leap and falling off the edge.

Here we go.

Double the PATIENCE

Duh right? Never a bad thing to be patient, especially in a transitional state. But pause. Consider the deep realities of what you’re about to step into. This is NOT normal — and the hard-hitting wake-up call that always travels with significant change is that THINGS TAKE LONGER.

They just do.

You can’t accomplish the simplest tasks in your new space in the same way that you could in that old space. It took you time to figure life out there. You developed systems and routines. You learned names and places and eventually, you could set parts of your life on auto-pilot.

News flash — your auto-pilot doesn’t work when your path changes.

Not yet. It takes time.

That’s normal transition. Now multiply that by COVID. Not only is YOUR new normal not normal but literally, for the first time in your life, EVERY PLACE in the world is NOT NORMAL.

So while you are figuring it out, they are too.

You don’t have to give up. That’s not what patience is. It’s actually the exact opposite

“Ah well. Pandemic. Guess it’s just gonna’ be terrible.”

Nope. It’s not. BUT it might take longer this time for it to get good. Commit to the long haul on the front end. Anticipate delays and slower than usual movement. And press on.

Patience young one. Patience.

Three times the GRACE

I think I’m probably the first to notice this but people are not always the best version of themselves during a pandemic.

Am I right?

We just went through some stuff. Like, all of us. Every single human.

So run the numbers. What are the chances that the new place you are going to is filled with people who are struggling and stretched thin?

Did you say 99%?

So close. Missed it by one.

Being the new kid is always stressful but being a new kid in a tornado is some next-level stuff.

Be willing to entertain the thought that first impressions shouldn’t chart your course. Your new people just went through some major challenges. They switched into panic mode and scrambled to figure out how to keep moving forward. There were some tense meetings. Some sacrifices. Some hard goodbyes. If they had been allowed in the same room they might have choked each other.

(Zoom saves lives)

And you just showed up. “Hey guys! Really excited to be here. Let’s do this thing.”

For your own safety, maybe you should try that on a Zoom call first.

Recognizing that your new people are recovering (just like you are) and giving them grace in the short term to be less than on point will not only greatly increase your capacity to enjoy them, it will astronomically increase the likelihood that they will do the same for you.

Grace new kid. Grace

Incessant THANKFULNESS

Sob stories have never been so prevalent or hard-earned. We’ve all got one. This has been hard.

COVID has served up a massive helping of change which comes with a big bowl of loss and your choice of three sides. Look around. Most people prefer whininess, self-pity, and (it’s a tie between) self-righteous indignation or sarcastic mockery.

Pandemics come with bitter side dishes. So do big moves. Trying to navigate both at the same time is loss gluttony. The narrative naturally turns dark.

It makes sense — and it’s fair. The loss is real. The pain is legit. The stories are true.

Choosing thankfulness in a loss context though, is a flat out muscle choice. It’s not the natural go to for most people. You might even get funny looks.

“You want WHAT with your COVID story?! Thankfulness?! Would you also like some ketchup in your coffee?”

Losing sight of the richness around you is a downward spiral. You know it is. You’ve ridden that ride before.

There are two flavors of thankfulness though.

‘BUT thankfulness.’

Or ‘AND thankfulness.’

“BUT thankfulness” is a weak, happy stamping attempt to cancel the pain.

“My life’s a mess. I lost my job. I haven’t seen a real person in 15 months … but I’m sure thankful for Zoom calls.”

You’re reaching.

Plus it just sounds like you’re 12 years old … snortlaugh “You said ‘butt thankfulness.”

‘AND thankfulness’ on the other hand, is an intentional acknowledgment that your story is more than just a COVID tragedy. It doesn’t ignore the hard parts. It calls them out. Wrestles with them. Does the hard processing.

AND

Never loses sight of the rich bits.

EVER.

Not for a second.

The best bits of your life are always there — Not in the background — As the foundation.

When you stack one transition on top of another you can safely bet that more loss, more stress, and more sobs are going to show up in the next part of your story. Now is NOT the time to pretend it’s not hard AND it is absolutely NOT the time to forget (or ignore) what you are truly thankful for.

Thankfulness friend. Tuck that away. You’re going to need it.

I’m a huge fan of transition and the people who are walking through it.

It excites me to think about the big moves that are going to bust out of the gate the second the trigger is pulled. It’s going to be a pivotal year for a lot of people.

If that is you, pack wisely.

Are you headed into a big change this year?

What’s going through your head?