The Neutral Zone

In any transition there are three parts going on simultaneously. We’re most often conscious of the endings—the losses, and the new beginnings, however faint they are. We are less conscious of the third, and often predominant part of transitions—the part where we are lost and uncertain. Endings are often painful, beginnings are exciting, but it’s the disorientation—the not being able to find firm footing that can be most challenging.

William Bridges, in his wonderful book Managing Transitions that is now out in its 25^th anniversary edition, talks about these three stages. He is very clear that although change can happen quickly, transitions, the processing and living into the new circumstances of our lives, happens in stages and over time. These stages overlap and at any point in the process one can predominate.   When I first Transitions many years ago shortly after moving to Worcester and beginning a new job, I was most struck by Bridges naming the amorphous not-knowing aspect of transitions—what he calls the neutral zone.

The neutral zone is the place where we don’t know where we are or what direction we need to be moving in. We have trouble focusing and feel uninspired or depressed. We seem to be spinning our wheels. Endings are not complete and beginnings are not clear. In the changes that are happening we have lost the foundation we counted on and we can’t even discern what direction is forward and what is back.

I have often thought that the Tibetan Buddhists are pointing to the same mind-space with their image of the bardo—that realm where souls abide in between incarnations. The bardo is portrayed as a dangerous place because you have no human agency. You are adrift without the power to make choices. You are blown about by the winds of karma. You cannot cultivate intention or awakening in the bardo. It is a time of waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

Sound familiar? Almost like being in the middle of a pandemic and still not being sure if we are in the beginning, middle or even perhaps nearing the end of the outbreak. Were you planning to travel this fall? Go to a conference in the spring? Travel oversees next summer? Now we don’t know how to plan and can’t clearly imagine what our future will be like.

With schools beginning in just a week or two, it’s not even clear if our children will be in school or at home. And even if we think they are going to be in school, they may only be there a few days a week. And there’s no guarantee that once they go back there won’t be another spike of infections and they will be sent home. Again.

It’s hard to live in the neutral zone. Our planning minds like to create clear pictures of the future. Of course, we never really know what will happen from one day to the next, but when our mind has a fixed plan that is reasonably close to what seems to be happening, we are able to ignore our true ignorance and the ultimate unreliability of reality as we imagine it.

The pandemic is pressing us all. Our President is using this as a time to illustrate the power of positive thinking. His hope seems to be that if he draws out attention to the good things and gets everyone to try really hard, we can beat the virus without wearing these silly masks and taking collective action to limit our physical contact. If we wait long enough this strategy might work, but only after a level of suffering and death that is far beyond anything we have encountered to-date. Positive thinking and willpower are rather weak forces in the universe. They can be helpful, but only when practiced in the context of working with some large unfolding reality of experience.

In the neutral zone, patience is the deepest practice. Waiting. Keeping vigil. It can be helpful to know and name that this place of uncertainty and inaction is a necessary part of the process. Everything takes its own time and sometimes there is nothing to be done other than to take care of ourselves right where we are, to remember that we are together even in our separation and to know that even in the confusion and uncertainty of the moment, our true life is right here.