On watching kids grow up and the big transitions that are part of that

This blog post is a little different. I recently dropped my son off for his freshman year at college. It’s been a lot. A lot of emotions. A lot of change. A lot of growth. 

I’m not going to share the day by day run down from graduation to drop off. (Yes, there were tears.)

I’m not going to share what I wrote to my boy in the card I left on his bed. (Getting a fitted sheet onto a loft bed is an aerobic workout.)

I’m not going to share how it’s going. (That’s for him to share and for me to treasure.)

However, in this blog I WILL share the readings, the tools, and the science that made this process a gorgeous journey, tingling with aliveness, just in case it might help you navigate whatever big emotional transitions you have in your family or work.

STORY: On watching kids grow up and the big transitions that are part of that

READ MORE: This whole blog post is really a “read more” so you only get one other recommendation.

BOOK STUFF: And the new book for September and October is…Rewire or Retire: AI for leaders! But wait there's more! We've added a second book and call in September.

GOING FURTHER: Now enrolling for the Disruptive Change Leadership Circle!

STORY: On watching kids grow up and the big transitions that are part of that

Did you know that kids grow up? 

Shocking. I know. 

As much as I wish they’d stay small enough to carry on my hip forever, they don’t. When we moved to this house my son just started kindergarten. Now, there’s one less person to tuck in at night because he’s now 900 miles away.  

But it’s not just kids that grow up. A book is finally published. A major project is launched. Your work best friend retires. An organization that you helped start changes direction, and you’re not invited. 

Growing up is natural. But after you invest years of blood, sweat, and tears into a relationship or project, when it grows up and moves on, as it will inevitably do, it can feel like a piece of your identity, a part of your soul, is ripped away. 

In her gorgeous book, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times, Pema Chöndrön wrote: “To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest. To live fully is to be always in no-man's-land, to experience each moment as completely new and fresh. To live is to be willing to die over and over again.”

That’s how sending my firstborn to college felt. 

That’s how leaving Chico State and a department I founded felt. 

That’s how writing a book and sending a manuscript to your ideal publisher felt. 

Like I was leaping out of a nest, uncertain if I’d fly or fall, yet forcing myself to be mind-fully-awake, eyes-wide-open, heart-thrumming-fiercely while doing it.

This summer, I found several books, articles, and poems that helped make my son’s going-away to college transition so much richer, more precious, and more meaningful. But they’re also tools that can help make other kinds of big transitions easier too. 

Reading #1 - Grown and Flown

Lesson #1, you’re not alone. There’s a LOT of people on this planet and others have survived whatever you’re going through. Find them. Read about their journey and what they learned along the way.

Try Grown and Flown, the best website I’ve encountered for parenting teens and young adults. It’s an utter travesty that I only discovered it days before dropping my son off at college. Fortunately, I have a daughter in eighth grade. She can reap the full benefit of me being part of a community of wise parents and getting sage advice throughout her teenage years.

Or check out Lisa Damour. Her books and podcast are a treasure trove too. 

Reading #2 - Atlas of the Heart, Brené Brown

As you might imagine, my emotional landscape was all over the map.

Joy. Grief. Pride. Anxiety. Excitement. Nostalgia. Wonder. Worry. Frustration. Gratitude.

Sometimes all in the same hour.

Neuroscience tells us emotions aren’t something that happen to us — they’re something we construct, moment by moment. Which means we also have some say in how we move through them.

Study after study concludes that naming emotions improves our ability to heal, process, and take constructive action. Psychologists call it affect labelling and find that it reduces distress and helps us self-regulate big emotions. Neuroscientists at UCLA found that naming emotions increases activity in the prefrontal cortex – a brain region that connects the analytical thinking brain with the subconscious emotional and motivational brain – and simultaneously decreases activity in the amygdala – your brain’s emotional arousal and threat-response center. 

My personal favorite resource for affect labelling is Atlas of the Heart by Brené Brown. I have never read it cover to cover, rather, I use it like a dictionary or thesaurus. When I have a big emotion that I want to get to know better, I open to the table of contents and look for the chapter that seems most relevant. She organizes it by the emotional trigger (“places we go when life is uncertain” or “places we go when the heart is open”). WIthin those chapters, I found the words “vulnerability” and “bittersweet”. 

“Vulnerability is the emotion we experience during times of uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure… The first date after my divorce. Talking about race with my team… Watching my child go to college.”

“Bittersweet is a mixed feeling of happiness and sadness… With very few exceptions, developmental milestones leave me feeling bittersweet.”

As soon as I landed on those words, it was like a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Yes. That. Exactly that. Those words were like a key that unlocked my ability to settle into the experience of falling/flying rather than fighting it. 

Reading #3 - Colorado School of Mines Convocation

It takes a special school with exceptional leadership and a devoted team to make a mom feel comfortable entrusting their baby to its care. Once upon a time as a school principal, I had to create that trust by helping moms feel safe letting go of their kindergartener's hand on the first day of school. Now I got to live through it as we dropped our son.

The university reminded me of how organizations can build cultures and systems to support clients who are collectively moving through a big transition. 

We rolled up with a carload of suitcases and boxes and were immediately met by staff and students, ALL volunteering their time to help the new students move in on a weekend. They carried boxes, wished us well, and checked in frequently to make sure we felt welcome and had all our questions answered.

Then, there was Convocation. Not only did the program start and end on time (engineering at its best!) but the President and the Provost emphasized all the right things — serious academic rigor combined with a collaborative “we climb together” attitude and a huge network of support systems.

My favorite moment was the one where the President asked every student to make a "personal commitment to respect, look out for, take care of, and support all other members of the community." The students then signaled their commitment, and we all supported them, by doing a giant wave around the arena.

It was everything we could have hoped for. And it serves as a brilliant example of how trust can be built at the organizational level.

Reading #4, The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran

And this poem by Kahlil Gibran was recommended to me by a client. It speaks for itself.

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

In conclusion

Back in 2021, I wrote about molting — the way a crab sheds an old exoskeleton when the shell around it has grown too tight. In that liminal state between when it crawls out of the old shell when a shiny, new, better-fitting exoskeleton hardens, It is perfectly natural and normal to feel raw, vulnerable, and unfinished.

Life frequently asks us to molt. Sometimes the next growth spurt arrives not with fanfare and celebration, but with lots of suitcases and boxes, a plane flight, and a house left a little too quiet.

Change is an inevitable part of the passage of time.

Time will pass. There’s nothing we can do to change that.

However, we can influence how we perceive time.

The perception of time depends on how memories are laid down in our brains. Each distinct memory is like a signpost along the highway. Perceived time shrinks or stretches depending on how many signposts there are and how distinct those signposts are from one another. 

Part of the reason that vacations feel so full of life after the fact is because there are so many memories, so many signposts. And each memory is so distinct. Time stretches.

Part of the reason that kids grow up so fast is because day to day life is so routine – wake up, breakfast, the off to school rush, pick up, snacks, extracurriculars, dinner time, homework, bathtime, bedtime, rinse and repeat. Each day feels infinitely long, yet the years collapse in a jumble of kids and laundry and toys and dishes. 

As college drop off approached ever closer, with every bedtime ticking down like a countdown clock, I intentionally tried to make memories with my family that were unique, distinct, and meaningful. Distinct signposts. Some were big as a billboard while others were as small and intimate as a handwritten note pinned to a tree. 

And when I dropped my kiddo off and we walked away from his dorm, it was vulnerable, bittersweet, and achingly beautiful. Like jumping out of a nest, not sure if you’ll fall or fly. But to live fully means to throw oneself out into that liminal state over and over, to revel in that tingly aliveness.

Here’s wishing you big transitions with your mind-fully-awake, eyes-wide-open, and heart-thrumming-fiercely.

READ MORE: 

One other recommendation. Change isn’t just about what shifts on the outside—our jobs, our roles, our routines. It stirs something deeper. It unsettles identity. It asks: Who am I now?

In this post, I share my own journey of leaving Chrysalis Charter School—one of the most tender and transformative transitions of my life. Along the way, I lean into William Bridges’ beautiful framework that distinguishes between change (the external event) and transition (the inner voyage of becoming).

My hope is that you'll come away feeling seen, a little more courageous, and a lot more equipped to navigate whatever changes life is offering you right now. Whether you're leading through change or living through it, may this be a lantern on your path.

BOOK STUFF: 

And the new book for September and October is…Rewire or Retire: AI for leaders! 

So much of leadership right now is shaped by forces outside our control. Other people's choices. Political disruption. The Universe throwing a curve ball. It’s disorienting, exhausting, and often heartbreaking. That's why in September we have decided to add a second read and connection call.

In When Things Fall Apart, Pema Chödrön reminds us that even when the ground shifts there is wisdom. With disruption there is a path to resilience. She invites us to lean into uncertainty with courage, compassion, and presence—discovering that transformation often begins in the very places we resist the most.

Join us in conversation on Tuesday Sept 16 from 4-5pm PST. We will reflect together on what it means to:

• Stay steady when life is uncertain

• Find clarity in the middle of chaos

• Approach unbidden change with curiosity instead of fear

• Build resilience and compassion—for ourselves and those we lead

Bring your reflections, an open mind, and a brave heart. This conversation just might crack you wide open. As always, no need to actually read the book to join us around the campfire.

GOING FURTHER:

Now enrolling for the Disruptive Change Leadership Circle!

Whiplash from constant change. Team loss and instability. Identity shaken. Strategy sidelined by urgency. If you’re leading through disruption, you’re not alone—and you don’t have to do it alone.

The Disruptive Change Leadership Circle is now open for applications. This confidential, research-backed experience is designed for seasoned leaders navigating high-stakes, fast-changing realities. Together, we’ll steady your nervous system, reconnect to your purpose, and harness the power of collective wisdom.

✨ New this year: Three cohorts (Oct 2025, Jan & April 2026), the option to join all three, and a pay-what-you-can model—offered for the first time ever.

Learn more and apply

If you’re looking for a guide through your next big transition – a career shift, a business launch, an overwhelming project – I have a limited number of private coaching spots available. Reach out via contact page or to irene@irenesalter.com.