I’d been experiencing, studying and learning about transitions for years when a friend sent me a diagram that made everything fall into place. The diagram looked like a figure 8 on its side – sort of like the symbol of infinity. Around the diagram were words that perfectly reflected my experience of transitions. Woo Hoo!

One difference between “ordinary change” and “transition” is that, during transition, besides what may be changing in our outer circumstances, we are changing. After a transition, we are not the same person we were before the transition began. We know different things about ourselves than we did before, and we probably have different expectations of ourselves and others.

A 3-minute Ted talk caught my attention. We’re used to seeing advice and research about how to be a leader. This talk was about the impact that a follower can make.

A video clip showed a shirtless man who started dancing on a beach. A crowd of people were sitting on the side of a hill. Some began to watch him; most did not. As the speaker said, “At this point, he is just a lone nut.”

So there I was, standing 918 feet above a glacial valley, with nothing but a sheet of glass between me and the valley floor, trying hard to believe my rational mind.

I’m writing this at 9:00 a.m. on my birthday.

I’ve already received birthday cards in the mail. This morning, birthday e-mails, electronic birthday cards and Facebook messages were waiting in my inbox. By 8:00 a.m., I’d received hilarious and loving text messages and a telephone “happy birthday chorus” in four-part harmony from family members. (I especially enjoy the part where they sing “Happy birthday to Mom/Bonnie/Grandma” simultaneously.)

In Barbara Sher’s book I Could Do Anything if I Only Knew What It Was, a chapter about “Divers and Scanners” made lightbulbs go off in my mind.

Some people are “Divers” – they have a dominant passion and love to learn more and more about it to deepen and sharpen their expertise. Divers might spend a lifetime in one field, becoming ever more expert in narrower areas (not just physician but surgeon; not just surgeon but heart surgeon; not just heart surgeon but aorta replacement surgeon).

One more time, I’m hearing and seeing messages all around me about the messy middle part of transitions. Most recently, I’ve started reading Brené Brown’s new book Rising Strong.

You might be familiar with Brené Brown as the researcher who gave a TED talk about how allowing ourselves to be vulnerable draws people closer to us. She followed that talk with another one about shame – a primary reason why we are reluctant to be vulnerable. She’s studied the link between vulnerability and courage. Since 2012, she’s done extensive research into why and how some people grow from their setbacks while others get stuck.

This week’s newsletter is later than usual because I’ve been away at a retreat – Soul Reunion Experience hosted by Ken Stone. It’s been a week of profound insights, profound connections and profound gratitude. The best part for me was that, even with all the transcendent experiences, I felt grounded and easy with moving back into my regular world.

So there I was at a favourite restaurant, sitting across from a favourite person, eating my favourite meal from the menu, complaining.

I noticed and was appalled. I know better. I even teach people about this. And I was doing it anyway, wasting precious time with someone I don’t get to see very often, complaining about a situation that irritated me.

Opening night of Symphony Under the Sky in Hawrelak Park, Edmonton – my favourite music event of the year. Four nights of spectacular music, outdoors in the park. Friendly happy people, informal atmosphere. Some people are under the amphitheatre in reserve seats; an equal number are in lawn chairs or blankets on the grass.