Five stages of identity death

And Happy 1st Birthday to A More Beautiful Way 🎉

They say the only constant in life is change.

Which leaves me wondering, why is it so difficult to let ourselves evolve? Why do we experience discomfort when it’s time to make a shift? Why do we hold on for so long when we know it’s time to step into a new way, into new work, into new seasons?

I suspect, underneath our clinging to what was and what is resides a deep desire to feel safe, to feel important, to feel in control of our lives. Perhaps even to feel in control of others and their lives. I suspect there are also concerns related to our sense of security and purpose in the world. We want to know we’re on the “right path” and doing the “right work,” again, in hopes of securing some vital need felt within.

I’ve been thinking about this because I’m in the last few months of working primarily as an organizational development practitioner and consultant. This has been my foremost work for the past six years. It will be seven years by the end of 2023, which quite mystically represents the number of fullness and completion. As I welcome this transition and feel my inner life shed, release, celebrate and prepare for new work in the world, I’ve been reflecting on the stages of identity death that got me here. I thought I might offer them as considerations for any of you who are also moving through the underworld that is soul-level transformation.

Before I share these stages, I want to be clear that these stages are not linear. They are experiences along the path and my observations of them. It’s also likely that this collection of stages is non-exhaustive, meaning there will be pieces I miss. I hope you’ll comment or email to let me know if and how they resonate with you.

Dissatisfaction

What once filled you up leaves you empty.

What once gave you a sense of purpose and meaning feels like a distraction from what you actually find purposeful and meaningful. A sadness creeps in where you once felt liveliness and joy. You know something is amiss, and so you begin searching. Maybe you consider psychotherapy. Maybe you check-in on your physical health.

There are many temptations in this stage, all of which serve to distract you from what’s truly humming inside. There is the temptation to blame those around you, especially those closest to you, for the lack of fulfillment you’re experiencing. There’s the temptation to numb the discomfort with all sorts of addictions to substances, screens, entertainment, etc. There’s the temptation to simply work harder and to pour more of your draining energy into the situation, even when it’s no longer generative. There’s also the temptation to act impulsively, making quick changes without listening for the deeper longing. We respond is all sorts of ways to our dissatisfaction, which is okay because we’re human. The invitation, here, is to be honest about the dissatisfaction you feel and to then turn towards it with curiosity. It’s helpful to do this work prayerfully or in sitting with someone who can hold space for your process. Turning towards the dissatisfaction, and not away from it, is a necessary step.

Desire

Alongside dissatisfaction is often a felt sense of what you’re longing for. These desires may be specific and clear, like for more money, for a different type of house, or for a specific shift in a relational dynamic. These desires may be broad or less specific, like for more spaciousness, for more wonder, or for a stronger sense of connection in your daily life. You may feel your desires as a warmth, energy or sensation in your body. There aren’t always words for it; sometimes it’s truly a feeling or a knowing.

In her book, Inner Compass: An Invitation to Ignatian Spirituality, Margaret Silf talks about how God will draw us into loving union and into deeper self-knowing through what she calls the “carrot way.” She says,

“God teaches us like the children we are. He uses carrots, not sticks. He attracts us through our own deepest desires and not through threats of eternal punishment. He call us to the joy of his presence by inviting us to discover, in our own deepest desires, his own overwhelming and passionate desire for us.”

The “carrot way” speaks to how we are drawn, by way of our deepest desires, towards truer expressions of the lives we’re meant to lead and the work we’re meant to do. This doesn’t happen just one time, but countless times as we evolve, shedding old layers of who we once believed ourselves to be.

As one form of identity dies, it’s imperative that we listen for what remains alive within us. Those glimmers of aliveness give us direction; they point us to where we’re invited to go next.

Disturbance

At some point along the way, we’re met with a disturbance, or a sudden change to the status quo. The disturbance can be an internal shift or an external happening. The disturbance might show up as an event you attend or a conversation you didn’t see coming. It could be a dream you have one night that goes on to stir up your soul for the day. It could be a movie you watch or a few lines of poetry you can’t get out of your head.

When the disturbance comes, you know in your bones it’s time to move towards a different story, a different future. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel about it. There’s not one right or wrong way to process this sort of thing. Support is crucial. We need helpers and listeners to journey alongside us as we respond to disturbances with as much care and thoughtfulness as we have access to in any given moment.

While the disturbance phase can be jarring and immensely uncomfortable, it’s necessary because like the tiller breaks up hardened ground, the disturbances break up the soil of our lives and creates space for new possibilities to take root.

Decision

Then the moment comes. You have to make a decision. While it can take some time to get there, the moment of decision can be quite brief. You take the truth of your dissatisfaction, the immensity of your desire, the opportunity of your disturbance, and with all three in hand, you decide where you’re headed next.

The point of decision can be filled with joy and anticipation. In my experience, there is also a bit of grief and uncertainty. While you have a sense of the trajectory you want to be on next, you don’t know what you don’t know. The familiarity of your past identity fits like a glove. You know that world inside and out. But this new place? This new way? You’ve never done it before.

I used to think that life would reach this steady place where change sort of slows down and you just commit to a daily sameness over the course of fifty or sixty years. But I’m learning now, in my early 30s, how many invitations there are to keep growing. The world is changing rapidly. The social and political climates are working on us, just as much as we are working on them. Kids and young people are facing challenges that I couldn’t have imagined when I was their age. Institutions I once believed were set in stone are actually quite malleable. Folks are literally debating and rewriting history. It’s wild out here. And in the midst of it, as you sense one form of your identity dying and a new form emerging, you get to decide how you want to respond.

Dedication

Once you’ve decided, what’s left is dedication to your becoming. Dedication focuses on the small, daily ways you say “yes” again and again to your own emergence. It's tempting to think that dedication means you change your entire life overnight. Yes, maybe. But more often than not, it’s the little choices that start to make a difference.

You call a friend to share about the decisions you’ve made as of late. You put out feelers for a new job. You finally start the process to apply for that program you’ve been dreaming about. You sign up for therapy or the gym, and you commit to going. You say goodbye to that person, that idea, that project you loved. You step into your new story. One moment at a time.

While these stages seem linear, they are not. They spin, fold, and bend as we move through the complexities and responsibilities of life. But I offer them here as a point of reflection. When you look at your journey as of late, are there any identity deaths inviting you into a new way of being? If so, I’d love to hear from you.

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Today, I celebrate 1 year of writing A More Beautiful Way.

I struggle with birthdays and anniversaries; celebration is not my strong suit. But I can say with confidence that I’m proud of the work I’ve only begun to do here. And I’m immensely grateful to each and every one of you who has opted in as a subscriber.

What I hope for the future of this project is to continue nurturing a body of work focused on slow living and spiritual formation, with commentary on the perils of modern life thrown in.

I hope to write a book by the same name, and I’m in conversation with publishers about what that might look like.

I hope to relaunch A More Beautiful Way Podcast, interviewing new and inspiring guests.

I hope to create content here that sparks conversation and inspires you all to comment, share, and engage the themes I’m writing about.

Thank you for being here. If you’d like to give me a gift for AMBW’s first birthday, please consider becoming a paid subscriber at $5/month or $50/year. Every bit counts!

Much love, friends and I’ll catch you here next week.

Bethaney