[Transitions and transformations as a natural part of everyday life.]

Felix Pietra, a Spaniard who preferred to be thought of as a Catalan, since he had grown up in the slums of Barcelona, lived on the Island of Mallorca. I met his wife at the small beach in Puerto de Soller, and learned she was from St. Louis and married to an artist. I was living a dream at the time, renting an ancient house and writing the “Great American Novel,” as well as other shorter works. Maria and I spent a pleasant afternoon chatting about art and writing. Felix would not come to the beach, she told me, but I was invited to their home which was on an isolated country road.

My tiny Fiat sedan almost shook apart on the bumpy trail to their abode. No electrical wires were visible. Felix was rail thin, reminding me of one of Picasso’s line drawings. He had a full beard and resembled his countryman Salvador Dali. I brought a gallon of bodega wine and a loaf of bread to them. He spoke accented English, but his vocabulary was extensive and his interests varied. He wanted to know about me and why I did what I did. He also was full of stories about himself and Maria, who were “among the first hippies on the Island of Ibiza” (smallest of the Balearic chain).

Chorizo was prepared over an open fire, wine was consumed, and a friendship was begun. Maria sold his paintings in Germany for large sums of money. Felix disparaged his German patrons for paying so much for his works. Since their lifestyle seemed to argue wealth I was confused. Felix cleared things up by saying the money allowed him to purchase the ancient volumes he then showed me, written in many languages. They were about alchemy, the arcane science of turning base materials into gold or universal elixirs.

I transitioned from a man sitting alone on the beach to one speaking with a stranger. She was transformed into a countrywoman as we spoke. Meeting Felix, I found him to be incredibly intelligent and individualistic and he was transformed from a name to a man with interesting qualities. He and Maria, on the other hand, transformed his art into money which was transitioned into books on alchemy. Ironically, alchemy is about transitions, the act of changing base materials... transforming them.

As written of here, transition is the act of changing, of transformation the subsequent state. A small example would be my change from an eighteen year old boy to sailor. Training and indoctrination into military and naval ways of thinking and being were a period of transition, as was living through many adventures on the high seas. When first I arrived home from Korean waters, I was only a year older, but had become transformed into an experienced “salty dog.”

In the field of psychotherapy we see many transitions, and transformations. Freud looked at human development as a series of transitions and their resultant transformations. The patients he treated were persons potentially in transition from a state of psychological dis-ease to one of resolution of conflicts, enhanced coping skills, and relative ease. Most of us view new clients entering the office as strangers, who then become engaged with us in a therapeutic process with the aim of being transformed into one who is less distressed.

At times psychotherapists experience conflicting feelings about a given client Ð we do not like them, or we like them very much, and maintaining the distance which allows us to help them work through their crises becomes difficult. We may then consult with another therapist to understand what about the client, as it relates to our psyche, we are having problems dealing with. We have gone from therapist to therapee.

More frequently than is generally known, persons without mental disorders consider suicide as a solution to a problem. This may begin with thoughts such as, “I’d be better off dead.” This is not, in itself, perceived dangerous by those of us who assess for lethality. However, that may be followed by the person’s looking into ways to commit suicide. The impact upon the ruminator and the outer world may be mulled over then as well. This is a transition to a state which is of more concern. Hopefully, at that moment a person will call for help, rather than complete their transition from thinking about suicide to being transformed into one who attempts suicide.

Most transitions are less dramatic than this. Consider the transition from summer to fall and from fall to winter. Up north the seasonal changes result in transformations of the environment. Leaves become multi-chromatic, then drop, resulting in trees with naked limbs all akimbo; snow falls and a white world reflects sunlight blindingly; later, the snow begins to melt and crocus bulbs push up through the thin layers of snow to bloom for us, signaling another summer. In Florida we decorate to demonstrate seasonal changes, with very little in the way of dramatic change in the visible natural world.

Transitions and transformations are sometimes feared. However, they are as natural as the brightly colored leaves in the north or the change in ambiance of many homes during the holiday season. When we are in psychological distress, transitions and transformations may be a bit unsettling, unless we view transitions as learning opportunities preparing us to be transformed. It may help to imagine a Monarch butterfly struggling to emerge from the cocoon Ð that image is what transition and transformation is really all about.

Charles Larsen, L.C.S.W. has been practicing psychotherapy and hypnosis for over thirty years. St. Petersburg (727) 894-3088. Email: harrymorgan@earthlink.net