In view of my impending departure from IJM Canada, I’ve been doing a bit of a farewell tour for the past few weeks. I’m in good company, with the likes of Paul Simon, Elton John and Ozzy Osbourne also doing farewell tours this year—although no one’s sure this really will be Ozzy’s last tour. After all, he first did a No More Tours tour back in 1992, and 26 years later is doing No More Tours 2. In any case, in the last two months I’ve been to Vancouver, Washington, D.C., Winnipeg and Calgary, and left those cities each time with the knowledge that it is likely to be my last visit in my capacity as executive director of IJM Canada.
On this tour of mine, leaving a city has always involved saying goodbye to dear friends. My life has been inestimably enriched over the course of my 12 years with IJM Canada by friendships with many donors and constituents from across the country, men and women who share my passion for transforming the daily experience of vulnerable citizens of developing countries by helping build safe, secure societies. We ache together at the depth of suffering broken human beings inflict on one another in this world, and we inspire one another to pursue a vision of the human flourishing that is possible where justice and love rule. Even though we have no context for a relationship outside of shared support for a worthy cause, I tend to say “I hope we can keep in touch” when I say good-bye.
But, do I have any reason to think that “keeping in touch” will be possible or even advisable? I may be comforting myself by uttering those words so I can avoid facing the reality that a good thing is coming to an end. Change is coming for me, and with change comes transition. As William Bridges wrote, “Transition is not just a nice way to say change. It is the inner process through which people come to terms with a change, as they let go of how things used to be and reorient themselves to the way that things are now.” For Bridges, transition is comprised of a set of inner relinquishments that need to be made because of the change. Change is situational; transition is psychological.
“Transition… is the inner process through which people… let go of how things used to be and reorient themselves to the way that things are now.”
I think I am only beginning to appreciate all that I might need to let go of— the joy of working with an inspiring, talented, affirming group of colleagues, a regular place to go every weekday morning (when I’m not travelling), the opportunity to travel the country at my organization’s expense, a way to use my talents, a context in which to plan my future, a way to be appreciated, a title to put on a business card. Yes, I’ll also lose an identity— or, as Bridges says, “at least an answer to the question, “What do you do?” In Bridges’ typology, all transitions are comprised of an ending, a neutral zone (“the confusing nowhere of in-betweenness”), and a new beginning.
I’ll be writing more about what I learn through my journey of transition out of leadership of IJM Canada in the months to come, but for now I’m focused on coming to terms with what I need to relinquish. “We have to let go of the old thing before we can pick up the new one— not just outwardly, but inwardly, where we keep our connections to people and places that act as definitions of who we are” (William Bridges, Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes).
After three days in Calgary last week, I drove two and a half hours to Lethbridge on Friday afternoon to have dinner with dear friends who have been a great source of wisdom and encouragement over my years of leadership with IJM Canada and have contributed significantly to my personal and professional growth. When we parted, I said once again, “I hope we can stay in touch” and then made my way back to Calgary in the late evening, stopping to take some photographs in the little prairie town of Granum. With the highway virtually empty and the car on cruise control, I drove north with a peaceful heart over rolling hills and between wheat fields and hay fields, soaking in the beauty of the sun setting over the mountains in the distance. There is much about my change and the transition that will accompany it that is still unknown, but today I am in a good place because “God has made everything beautiful for its own time.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).
© Edwin Wilson 2018
