Oh, THAT's what 'empty nest' means
“We’re not empty nesters, we’re bird launchers.”
My husband says this with a degree of humor.
It’s a much better description, isn’t it?
We live in Los Angeles and our two older daughters have launched into the city on their own, but close enough to come home for dinner and bring their laundry on occasion. And our youngest daughter just graduated from high school and will be exploring a gap year from the familiarity of our ‘nest’ for the next year or so.
Even though it’s not a full launch of separation, it is slowly dawning on me what having an ‘empty nest’ means.
I have been a stay-at-home/stage mama/homeschool parent over the course of the last 25 years, and the shift away from that daily hands-on mothering is feeling pretty monumental.
I have been primarily focused on other people’s needs and wants since I was 25 years old. And now I’ve cleared this level of the game and it’s…. weird? Unfamiliar.
Empty nest isn’t about the physical absence of your children in your home (though certainly it’s part of it), it’s the sudden relinquishment of that particular level of responsibility. It’s a dramatic shift to letting the birds fly away, as you have been shaping them for their entire lives. Like way back to when I taught them baby sign language so they could request what they needed and not have to resort to crying out of frustration.
All of that child-rearing was building the scaffolding for their launch. We have been preparing our children to leave our nest for years, but it’s still a bit of a shock when they actually leave, creating a vacuum filled with both emptiness and possibility.
I remember when I graduated from high school and went off to college—I was SO ready, practically chomping at the bit to be on my own. I had a good relationship with my parents, but I was just OVER IT when it came to arranging my life in the context of my family. I was ready to make my own thing.
And here I am again, ready to make my own thing, shifting away from the daily practicalities of arranging my life in the context of my family. I am entering a season of cleaning out the nest of my children’s childhood and creating the space for what we and I want in the next level of the game of life with them as young adults. And me as a parent they don’t ‘need’, but can choose to ‘want’ in their lives.
The first step for any kind of renovation is to create a vision of what you want (as a family and as an individual). What’s possible and what am I/we willing to do to get there?
The second step is to take out what no longer serves that vision. If you’ve ever seen any design shows on HGTV, you’ll know that once they are clear on the vision of what they want and some plans are drawn up, the next step is to take everything out of the room they are re-designing. They don’t spend time examining each item as they go—they take it all out and then only put back IN what they want, what works, what is useful to support the new vision in this space.
So think of that empty nest as the cleared-out room for what’s next. Imagine it’s ready for what you want to put back in. You don’t have to rush this process—and empty doesn’t mean barren.
It means available. It means fillable. It means a place that’s newly ready to put plans into motion.
What do you want in your space/time/energy-available nest? What’s the next level of the game for you? For your family and what you want to start to create in that space?
Take some time to lean against the doorframe of the cleared-out nest, and when the light is hitting the space just right, imagine what you get to create in there next. What kind of creation is next for you? You created a whole childhood and family life in the space before, so you know it can handle some pretty wonderful and powerful things.
You’re adding a new layer to this beautiful space; building on the strength of so many years of love and care and family life in this specific way.
What kind of creator do you want to become next? Who do you want to be? There’s a whole new space to fill and create in. Spin around that beautiful empty room until you collapse in the fullness of joy and start to see what’s next for you and this ‘nest’ of yours.