Navigating change and fear
What I wasn’t anticipating on reintegrating back into the UK
I’m back. I’m back into this writing life, having not posted since I decided to honour my needs and give myself a pause. And I’m also back in the UK from nearly 6 months living in Thailand. Back into snow (I was not prepared for that) and wearing woolly hats in the house, feeling like the 3 months longer we stayed there never happened and I’m actually about to put my Christmas tree up. Back into a life of more routine and responsibility. Back into one of the harder adult tasks of deciding what to eat 3 times a day. Back into the familiarity and warmth of loved ones. Back into the harder realities of life that come with difficult news. Back into morning walks round the park and beautiful English birdsong. Back into a bed that doesn’t feel like you’re sleeping on wood, and chairs that actually have back support. Back into my safe, cosy space with candles, incense, blankets, carpet, and a super high-quality yoga mat I wasn’t expecting to miss so much. Back to a nutritious, varied diet we have the privilege of affording, instead of living off the 3 basic food groups in Thailand: rice, rice and rice. Back into chocolate.
When I’ve been asked, “How are you settling back in?,” I've been struggling to find the answer and, writing that little list, I can see why. There are good things and bad, or more accurately, comfortable things and more difficult things. There are beautiful things, mostly people, that were missing from our life out there and comforts of the place I call home. There are realities I haven’t had to face. There are things I couldn’t wait to be back for and there are things I genuinely grieve the loss of now we’re here. And not just the sunshine. There is a duality to the feeling of being home, as with most experiences in life. There isn’t just one emotion I feel, there isn’t just one thought I’m having, but many.
The reason I’m most struggling to answer though is because it’s complex. In a conversation I had with someone on Instagram, they described their own experience of coming home after a period away travelling. She said, “It took me several months to settle back in and to find a way to integrate everything I learned and experienced into my German life.” And that’s exactly it. I have returned to familiarity and the known, but I am not the same person. What I experienced in Thailand was life-altering, in my own healing and in who I am as a person, but also in the knowledge of the kind of life I want to lead. My eyes have been opened and the possibility in my mind has been expanded as far as the distance that lies between my permanent home and what was a temporary home. So how do I integrate both, the old and the new? How do I quieten the fears of forgetting everything and returning to all the ways I felt unfulfilled and unsatisfied before I left?
I think some of the answer lies in time. Having experienced such a different way of life for half a year, there is no reason to just slip instantly back into my home way of life simply because it is more known and familiar. Despite the habits and routines of the brain, there are things I can’t remember. Like where the grater goes in the kitchen, what spices go in a chilli and how to pair my phone with the speaker. Fortunately, I remember how to drive the car. My brain has replaced some of these things it clearly began to consider as unnecessary with more useful things, like how not to die when crossing the road in a constant stream of motorbikes, how to pack a bag for a congruent work life and beach life and how to speak Thai. I have genuinely said, ‘thank you,’ in Thai on more than one occasion so far. A life flipped on its head will take some time and space to reintegrate.
I feel it’s the same after taking a pause or shifting into a new season, like spring, or a new role in our lives. We have to allow ourselves time and space to find more stable ground amidst the shakiness of uncertainty. Just as it feels delicious to embrace the warmer days and lighter coats of spring, it’s also a little unnerving to leave behind the cocooning of winter that allows us to retreat from the facing up to visibility. With shifting anywhere there is a stepping out that leaves us naked and vulnerable, even when it’s a space we’ve been before.
Change can never be rushed. It is our physiological make-up to stay in what we know so, when we courageously embrace stepping out, we have to allow for grace. We have to allow our humanness and compassionately offer the grace of space and time, the grace of acceptance and allowing, just as you would to a scared child stepping into the playground for the first time. As she lets go of the safety of your grip and looks back at you with both fear and the wonder of possibility in her eyes, we must both gently encourage and lovingly nurture. The yin and yang of change. We must hold space for both the bold excitement of moving forwards and the trepidation which tugs at our sleeves, holding us back in the warmth of safety.
Trepidation. Fear. There is always fear in change because it is the fear of what isn’t known yet. And if there are things we don’t know then how can we control? (Oh, the illusion of control.) I fear not being able to integrate what I’ve learnt, which, in essence, is a fear of not being able to change in the way I hope to. I’m fearing both the change itself and the concept of not changing. Fear of wanting something and fear of having it. And, whilst we’re on the subject of fear, I’m also currently fearing whether this piece of writing is any good. I’m already thinking about the rejection or judgement that may come, what you, as my reader, are going to think, which is precisely what keeps us from the vulnerability of writing, creating and sharing our truth. So much is limited by fear. And that’s precisely why I’m leaning into this period of integration and change.
If there is anything my illness has taught me, it’s that fear is only one part of you and it’s only a part that grips you if you try to ignore, avoid or resist really feeling into its presence. Avoiding fear feeds fear. Yes, fear can feel all-consuming. It can block us, steal our creativity, our openness. It can steal our potential to explore new opportunities, new paths, new ways of being. But when we turn towards it, listen to what it has to say, acknowledge it and validate it then offer it what it needs and propose a different view, a space opens up. Fear is only one part of you with thoughts and feelings, the strength, belief or desire in you doesn’t go away because fear has a voice.
So the answer to my question of integrating old and new, as well as time and space, lies in recognising my fears. Instead of hiding from them or letting them rule, I will do what I now know to do. Acknowledge the fear, validate it, but know that fear is not all of who I am. Let it have a voice but know that it is only one voice.
I hadn’t planned on writing about change and fear today but I suppose that’s the beauty that happens when you put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard). I was planning on writing about the lessons I learned in Thailand but maybe I needed to learn the lessons of integration first and realise that this is a period of change, and with that some fear, despite it being a shift back into the familiar.
As we shift into the new season of spring, I hope you can offer yourself the grace of listening to all parts of you and allow the yin and yang, the duality, of life.
Much love,
Suzi x
Fear is something I have dealt with a lot, having experienced so much of it when I was chronically ill, and still afterwards. Acknowledging and learning the message of fear is one way I have learnt to cope with it. I created a journaling guide for fear, available on my website, if that’s something you feel would help you when it comes to navigating fear’s challenges.
Beautiful. That “fear of wanting something and fear of having it” at the same time... so resonant! Thank you for sharing. x
This resonates so much thank you for writing so openly and truthfully. Just before the point when you wrote that you were fearing if this piece was any good I was thinking wow it's beautiful when someone is so aligned and can write such a stunning piece I wish I can do it too... ☺️