We watch as others achieve the goal. We look at them, envious. In that long awaited empty nest, we imagine there are no more school functions or sports. No rushing out at the last minute to search for just the right homecoming dress. No college visits. We imagine plenty of “me-time”. Nights out at the movies with friends or enjoying fine dining.
The Dream of an The Empty Nest
It’s easy to get caught up in the fantasy.
The belief that a blank calendar is all it will take to instantly instill peace, harmony and contentment into our lives.
That having open time will mean we get to rediscover ourselves.
But that’s not always how it goes when we find ourselves – somewhat suddenly – with an empty nest.
Unfortunately, that space, the void that is created, sometimes gives us something we are not prepared for.
Time to reflect and if we’re not careful, ruminate.
And when we search for ourselves, we may find the journey a little elusive. Even daunting.
Luckily, there are ways to plan ahead for this significant life transition, and others like it. And to head off the potential pitfalls.
An Empty Nest Can Allow Us a Fresh Start
Whether it’s achieving that empty nest or some other life shift that provides newfound free time, white space on the calendar and a shorter to-do list can feel liberating. At first.
Initially it almost always feels amazing, freeing, and ripe with possibility.
But soon thereafter, it sometimes begins to feel a little bit as though life is a blank canvas.
And we have no idea what to paint.
As though we’re experiencing a serious case of writer’s block, with our lives as the novel we’re attempting to compose.
Other things continue to distract us, of course. And it fills some of our time.
But closing a door, finishing a large project, or another shift in our role – whether it be to empty-nester, retiree, or having our children go off to kindergarten – can leave us wondering.
Where is that spark?
That energy, the purpose, the priorities that propelled us in the past have shifted.
What do we do if we suddenly feel as though we have no rudder?
Finding Joy In The Moment – And In The Future
Being mindful means taking care to be present in the moment, savoring that moment, and experiencing it to the fullest.
Looking forward to something in the future may, in fact, be the complete opposite of being mindful.
Yet many of us enjoy doing so.
We find it comforting, especially when we are feeling down, worried, or anxious.
For some of us, it’s even essential to our sense of contentment.
Knowing there’s a moment on the horizon when we believe our concerns will shift to the background.
Believing that there will be a future time when we will feel especially joyful, grateful, or at peace.
This can help us cope, and get through tough times.
We Can’t Always Be Looking Forward
When we don’t have something to look forward to, and find our current day to day unfulfilling, it can create an emptiness that grows and swells, and can begin to approach desperation, if we allow it to go unchecked.
But it’s unrealistic to believe we can always have some major getaway or special occasion on the horizon, close enough to see.
How can we fill the void during those times?
And how can we ensure our day to day is also filled with moment of joy and fulfillment?
Especially during times of change and transition?
Finding Joy When There’s “Nothing to Look Forward To”
With some intentional thinking, we can harness that energy, that joy, we experience when looking forward to something, and enrich our present day, too.
Moments when the horizon feels empty are the perfect time to reflect on the occasions, events, milestones and goals that have brought us joy and motivated us in the past.
And to imagine a future state that would provide us the ideal environment to be our best selves.
These are moments when we must encourage ourselves to dream.
To catch a glimpse of that beautiful, perfect state we wish to achieve, and then latch onto it, bringing it into focus.
Until that picture becomes clear enough to articulate, describe, envision in our imagination.
Until we see with clarity the full beauty that ideal future would hold in store.
When the picture is locked in, analyze it.
What are the components of it?
In my case, some of my favorite memories involve cooking for large groups.
My beautiful future includes having family all around me.
So, I look forward to those occasions when loved ones are near, and the kitchen is bustling.
What can I do to create more occasions to enjoy this collection of conditions?
An Empty Nest Is a Good Time To Create Our Own Best Future
Who says I have to wait for the holidays?
Perhaps I can set an occasion in the coming weeks for everyone to come, gather and feast.
Maybe I can figure out a way to do more for others beyond my family, too.
Does my church have any suppers planned?
Is there a shelter that could use another volunteer to do some food prep?
Another component of my perfect future includes sheltering dogs.
I dream of a day when I may shelter mother dogs and their litters, until the pups are old enough to wean.
I don’t have the capability to do it in my home, now. But hope to in a few years.
What can I do in the meantime?
Resume volunteering for the animal rescue organization I used to work for.
Somehow, those Sunday afternoon commitments slipped away when my children grew up. I made time for it when they were teenagers. But since they became adults, I’ve lost touch with my animal rescue friends. Maybe it’s time to renew those acquaintances.
And of course, there is this blog, KindCompassCoach.
It’s been months since I consistently met my goal of posting at least one new post weekly.
It’s time to restore my commitment to do so. Because that’s a piece of my perfect future.
My Time With An Empty Nest
Me, having the time and the peace and the control over my own universe to carve out a time to write, daily.
To get all these thoughts out of my head and onto the paper.
Having a moment, daily, when I can say, yes, that’s what I meant to say – and I’ve said it well.
Here’s to living in the moment, but also looking forward to a bright future; embracing a blank canvas and filling it with our own colors; harnessing that energy and bringing it into our daily lives.
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Joan Senio is the founder of KindCompassCoach. Her career includes 20+ years as a private sector corporate executive and 15 years (and counting) as a consultant and coach. The common thread through her professional life has been a commitment to compassionate leadership, including leading and mentoring current and future leaders, and women from all walks of life. KindCompassCoach articles are backed by research and include facts and advice from a wide variety of experts. Joan is a member of the International Organization of Life Coaches, serves as a thought-leader for KuelLife.com and is a regular contributor to PsychReg and Sixty and Me.
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One Response
I’ve pondered this idea before: I am a pseudo-empty-nester/widower. I’ll explain:
My wife left six years ago, just one year after our first pregnancy and miscarriage. We were 13 years apart in age. I was 47 at the time, and 54 now. The divorce left me broken hearted, empty, alone and a sense of no hope of a genetic-future family. For me, the grief was layered. Most other divorced people didn’t understand. They thought I should be angry with my wife for abandoning our marriage and shared dreams. Instead, I continued to love and grieve in my heart the person who left me as if I had lost my spouse to death, not divorce; people didn’t understand that; and frankly, neither did I except that I truly loved her and she shut out all communication. Additionally, I grieved the loss of my future-children, the ones I would never have because of my advancing age and the reality that I was not going to “hook-up” in the short term due to my grief. The nest was empty and there was nothing I could do about it. The hopes and dreams of a family in “my nest” vaporized. I was left with the same experience as an empty nester: “Now What?”
Fast foward, six years later, and I’m still asking that question. I’ve been involved in different activities, made new friends, grown and learned much about letting go, codependency, unhealthy relationships, and healthy relationships. I have not engaged in maladaptive behaviors, or desired to date anyone “at this age”. If I was 35, I’m sure I would have dated and possibly been partnered again in that length of time as a future family, biology and energy were still in play. But, things in my 50s look much different. My family of origin is estranged because of their control patterns, so holidays are nothing to look forward to as I chose to spend them alone for the sake of “peace”. I’ve learned to not mind that so much as holidays are man-made illusionary markers in society. They do in fact give people an event to look forward to if they are involved with or have healthy family relations. Collective beliefs can feel supportive..I get that.
So, to anyone who struggles with figuring out what to paint on that empty canvas; I get it. Other people who have partners and extended families don’t “get” what it’s like to have dreams that ended or were never realized because of circumstances beyond one’s control. I sympathize with the empty nesters.