Understanding the Four Stages of Transition: A Map for When Everything's Changing

Why Understanding Stages Matters

Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them.

You get a cancer diagnosis. Your business sells. A parent dies. You retire. Your marriage ends. Whatever the specific change, suddenly you're in transition – that uncomfortable space between what was and what will be.

And here's what I've learned: most of us have no idea how to navigate transitions. We think we should be able to power through them or adjust quickly. We beat ourselves up when we're struggling. We feel lost and disoriented and wonder what's wrong with us.

Nothing's wrong with you. You're just in a transition. And transitions have stages.

Understanding these stages – being able to name where you are in the process – gives you incredible clarity. Each stage brings different challenges and requires different approaches. When you can identify where you are, you gain power over how you respond to what's happening instead of just being tossed around by forces you don't understand.

I learned about these four stages from Susan Bradley's work on life transitions, and they've become one of the most valuable frameworks I have for making sense of the messy, complicated periods when everything's changing.

Let me walk you through them.

Stage 1: Anticipation – Living in the Questions

Anticipation is where you know something significant is coming, but you have more questions than answers.

This is where I am right now with my cancer diagnosis. I know treatment is coming. I know my life is going to change significantly. But I don't know exactly what the treatment will entail, how I'll respond to it, what the side effects will be, or what my prognosis really looks like.

It's the stage of living in ambiguity.

What Anticipation feels like:

Anxiety and uncertainty dominate. Your mind runs through endless scenarios. You're trying to prepare for something you can't fully predict. You're gathering information but still don't have enough to make clear decisions.

For me, it's meant researching survival rates (even though I know I'm not supposed to), asking my doctors countless questions, trying to understand what's ahead while knowing I can't really know until I'm in it.

It's uncomfortable as hell. Your brain craves certainty, and you have none. You're suspended between your old life and your new reality, and the waiting is brutal.

What Anticipation requires:

The work of this stage is learning to be comfortable with uncertainty. Not pretending you're comfortable with it, but actually developing the capacity to sit with not knowing.

This means:

• Seeking information to ask intelligent questions without obsessing over details you can't control

• Building your support network before you need it

• Preparing mentally and practically for what might be coming

• Resisting the urge to force premature decisions just to escape uncertainty

The trap of Anticipation:

The biggest mistake in this stage is trying to skip it. You want answers now. You want certainty now. You want to get to the "new normal" without going through all the messy stuff in between.

But you can't skip Anticipation. The work of sitting with uncertainty, of gathering information, of preparing yourself mentally and emotionally – that work is essential. Trying to bypass it just means you'll be less prepared when you hit the next stages.

Stage 2: The Ending – When Things Actually Change

Eventually, Anticipation gives way to Ending. This is when you transition from "not being in treatment" to "knowing exactly what treatment will be," or from "working" to "retired," or from "married" to "divorced."

The Ending stage is when the old reality actually ends and the new one begins.

What Ending feels like:

Relief and apprehension simultaneously. There's often relief that the waiting is over – you finally know what's happening. But there's also apprehension or grief about what you're leaving behind.

For me, when I move from diagnosis to active treatment, I'll feel relief at finally doing something. But I'll also be saying goodbye to life before treatment, before the side effects, before everything gets harder.

Endings are emotionally complex because you're usually feeling multiple contradictory emotions at once.

What Ending requires:

The work of this stage is actually letting go. Not just intellectually acknowledging that something's ending, but emotionally and practically releasing your grip on what was.

This means:

• Acknowledging what you're losing, even if what's coming is better

• Giving yourself permission to grieve

• Making concrete decisions that close doors

• Saying actual goodbyes when appropriate

The trap of Ending:

The biggest mistake here is trying to keep one foot in the old reality while stepping into the new one. You can't successfully move forward if you're still clinging to what was.

This doesn't mean you forget the past or pretend it didn't matter. It means you acknowledge it's over and let go of the grip it has on your current reality.

For business owners, this often looks like staying too involved after selling. For retirees, it's continuing to check work email and stay plugged into business problems. For anyone in transition, it's refusing to accept that the old way is done.

Let it end. That's the work of this stage.

Stage 3: Passage – The Messy Middle

Passage is where most people get completely lost.

This is the stage between the old life ending and the new life beginning. You're in the transition itself – the messy, confusing, uncomfortable middle where nothing feels certain.

This is where I'll be soon when I'm actually going through cancer treatment. It's the stage where you're in it but don't know how it'll turn out.

What Passage feels like:

Disorienting. Exhausting. Sometimes terrifying.

Nothing feels stable. You don't know if you're doing it right. Some days are okay, some days are terrible, and you can't predict which you'll get. You feel lost and confused and wonder if you'll ever get through it.

I remember this from my previous cancer experience. Some days felt manageable. Other days I wished had never happened. There was no pattern I could count on, no way to know what tomorrow would bring.

Passage is the stage where you're genuinely in liminal space – neither here nor there, just... passing through.

What Passage requires:

The work of this stage is surviving it without knowing how it ends. It's learning to be present with discomfort, confusion, and uncertainty day after day.

This means:

• Letting go of the need to have it all figured out

• Taking things one day at a time because that's all you can do

• Asking for and accepting support

• Being gentle with yourself when everything feels hard

• Trusting that this stage, like all stages, will eventually end, even though you can't see how or when

The Trap of Passage:

The biggest mistake in Passage is thinking you should already be in New Beginning. You beat yourself up for still struggling, for not having adjusted yet, for not feeling settled.

But Passage takes time. Sometimes, a lot of time. And the more you fight being in it, the harder it gets.

The other trap is giving up. Passage is so uncomfortable that it's tempting to just check out – go numb, stop trying, resign yourself to misery.

Neither fighting it nor giving up works. The work is to keep showing up, keep moving forward, keep trusting that you're passing through even when it feels like you're stuck forever.

Stage 4: New Beginning – But Not What You Expected

Eventually – and this timing varies wildly – you move into New Beginning. You've passed through. You're establishing a new normal.

But here's the thing about New Beginning: it rarely looks like what you expected.

What New Beginning feels like:

There's usually a sense of settling. Things feel less chaotic. You've developed new rhythms and routines. You have some stability again, even if everything's different than before.

But it's not necessarily a cause for pure celebration. Because your new normal includes whatever you went through to get there.

For me, if cancer treatment succeeds, my New Beginning will still include "parting gifts" – lasting effects of treatment, ongoing monitoring, and changed physical capacity. It won't be a return to life before cancer. It'll be a new life that incorporates the reality of having had cancer.

What New Beginning requires:

The work of this stage is actually building your new life instead of trying to recreate your old one.

This means:

• Accepting that "normal" now means something different

• Building routines and rhythms that work with your new reality

• Integrating what you learned during the transition

• Letting go of expectations about what this stage "should" look like

The Trap of New Beginning:

The biggest mistake here is comparing your new normal to your old normal and finding it lacking. Of course it's different. That's the point. The question isn't whether it matches what was. The question is whether you can build something meaningful within what is.

The other trap is thinking you're done. That this New Beginning is permanent and stable and you'll never have to go through transition again.

But life doesn't work that way. New Beginnings are just new starting points. Eventually, something else will change, and you'll cycle through these stages again.

The Non-Linear Reality Nobody Mentions

Here's what the textbooks don't emphasize enough: these stages aren't linear.

You don't move cleanly from Anticipation to Ending to Passage to New Beginning and then stay there forever.

Sometimes you think you're in New Beginning, and suddenly you're pulled back into Passage because everything changed again. Sometimes you're in Ending and find yourself back in Anticipation because new information has emerged. Sometimes you cycle through multiple mini-transitions simultaneously.

At Modern Elder Academy, they talk about experiencing 26 minor transitions and six major ones throughout our lives. What they don't emphasize enough is how these transitions stack on top of each other, creating layers of complexity.

That's exactly where I find myself today – navigating multiple transitions simultaneously, each affecting the others.

I'm in Anticipation about cancer treatment. I'm in Passage about retirement transition. I'm in Ending about certain physical abilities. And each of these transitions impacts the others.

This is normal. Messy, complicated, exhausting – but normal.

How to Use This Framework

So what do you actually do with this knowledge?

First: Name your stage honestly.

Where are you actually in your transition? Not where you think you should be, but where you actually are. Are you in Anticipation with more questions than answers? In Ending, letting go of what was? In Passage, just trying to survive the messy middle? Or in New Beginning, establishing new patterns?

Naming it gives you power. It helps you understand why you're feeling what you're feeling and what work this stage requires.

Second: Embrace the unique challenges of where you are.

Stop fighting the stage you're in. If you're in Anticipation, stop trying to force certainty. If you're in Passage, stop expecting to feel settled. Each stage has its own challenges. Accept them.

Third: Build the right support network for each phase.

Different stages need different kinds of support. Anticipation needs people who can sit with uncertainty with you. Ending needs people who'll let you grieve. Passage needs people who'll walk beside you without trying to fix everything. New Beginning needs people who'll support your fresh start without comparing it to your old life.

Fourth: Expect non-linear movement between stages.

Don't be surprised when you cycle back to earlier stages or when multiple transitions overlap. That's how it works. The framework isn't meant to create a neat linear path. It's meant to help you understand where you are in the mess.

Fifth: Be gentle with yourself along the way.

Transitions are hard. All of them. You're going to struggle. You're going to have bad days. You're going to wonder if you're doing it wrong.

You're probably not doing it wrong. You're probably just in a hard stage doing hard work.

The Most Powerful Thing I've Learned

Want to know the most powerful thing about understanding these stages?

It's this: acknowledging where you are creates the space to move forward with intention and grace.

When you name your stage, you stop fighting reality. You stop beating yourself up for struggling with something that's supposed to be hard. You start working with the transition instead of against it.

You can't control which transitions you face. Life will throw changes at you whether you're ready or not.

But you can understand the territory. You can name where you are. You can do the work that each stage requires instead of trying to skip ahead or force something that isn't ready yet.

That's the difference between being blindly tossed around by transition and navigating through it with some level of consciousness and choice.

Where Are You?

So, where are you right now in your transition?

What stage are you in? What's the work that stage requires? What support do you need? And what would it look like to actually embrace where you are instead of fighting it?

These aren't rhetorical questions. They're the questions that help you navigate whatever changes you're facing.

Because here's the truth: you're always in transition. Life is constant change. The question isn't whether you'll face transitions. The question is whether you'll develop the tools to navigate them with clarity and intention.

Understanding these four stages? That's one of the most valuable tools I've found.

Let's figure out how to use it together. And, let’s learn how to integrate transitions into work, retirement, and death. We’re all going to face them, so let’s face them together. Let’s have a conversation about this.