What if transition didn't automatically come with so much drama?
Picture this: Nothing has collapsed. You’re still functioning. From the outside, your life looks fine to others. And yet, you’re unsettled. It’s not so bad that it feels like a crisis, but enough that the future doesn’t feel wide open with possibilities.
I’ve certainly been there. Are you there now?
You might notice the discomfort in small moments. You wake up with a mild feeling of dread. Maybe you’re catching yourself trying to scan the future — months, or years from now — worrying how things will turn out. You find yourself overthinking (something I’ve been especially good at) more than usual. It’s certainly not because you enjoy it, but because you’re trying to get your bearings.
What I’ve seen is that the unanswered questions can cause us to blame ourselves.
But the truth is, you’re not falling apart—even if it might feel like it. And this isn’t a failure to cope. You’re responding to uncertainty — personal, collective, maybe both—in a very human way.
I used to go through the following process: I tried to reassure myself by thinking it through (several times). I’d analyze, research, plan, replay conversations, imagine scenarios. At first, it seemed reasonable. But at some point, it stopped being helpful. Not surprisingly, the questions didn’t resolve. My future still felt uncertain. And the more kept thinking about it, the more unsettled I felt.
If you’re anything like me, this is the moment where we assume something is wrong with us. But more often than not, what’s actually happening is this: the phase your life is in now doesn’t respond to rational thought alone.
Transition might be asking for a different kind of attention.
This is how I discovered that using a more creative approach made a huge difference. I found that it’s a very effective way to disconnect from the old stories we carry that keep us limited in our possibilities.
Using art-making to who we are and what we’re going through is as ancient as the human race. And many of us already know that making something with our hands gets us out of our heads and into our feelings. Our attention shifts from the future and into the truth of what’s here in the moment.
When we do this, we’re no longer trying to “solve” our lives. We’re giving ourselves a container in which we can acknowledge and release resistance. The process of making imagery (and often accompanying it with words) gives conflicting emotions somewhere to go, often revealing something we couldn’t see by just thinking alone.
Clarity and ease start to show up as steadiness. As a sense of being fully present and willing to meet what is. I’ve found confidence in realizing I don’t need to know what’s next in order to be okay now.
In working with many clients, transition doesn’t require fixing, but starts with becoming observant and expressing what’s going on inside. And that the most helpful step isn’t yet more trying to figure it all out, but expressing what’s going on in the inside that lets our nervous system relax and concern about the future to loosen its grip.
It may sound like a subtle shift, but it changes everything.
This largely unexplored territory of creative expression has become the foundation I invite my clients to explore as they move through various kinds of transition, regardless of whether it involves relationships, health, divorce, career change or retirement.
Once we give ourselves permission to use this approach, we begin to see what’s true and what’s imagined. In addition, we find ourselves open to solutions that wouldn’t have occurred to us if we only used our logical minds.
If you’d like to experience this approach for yourself, you can read about Straw into Gold here.
Picture this:Pic
I’ve certainly been there. Are you there now?
You might notice the discomfort in small moments. You wake up with a mild feeling of dread. Maybe you’re catching yourself trying to scan the future — months, or years from now — worrying how things will turn out. You find yourself overthinking (something I’ve been especially good at) more than usual. It’s certainly not because you enjoy it, but because you’re trying to get your bearings.
What I’ve seen is that the unanswered questions can cause us to blame ourselves.
But the truth is, you’re not falling apart—even if it might feel like it. And this isn’t a failure to cope. You’re responding to uncertainty — personal, collective, maybe both—in a very human way.
I used to go through the following process: I tried to reassure myself by thinking it through (several times). I’d analyze, research, plan, replay conversations, imagine scenarios. At first, it seemed reasonable. But at some point, it stopped being helpful. Not surprisingly, the questions didn’t resolve. My future still felt uncertain. And the more kept thinking about it, the more unsettled I felt.
If you’re anything like me, this is the moment where we assume something is wrong with us. But more often than not, what’s actually happening is this: the phase your life is in now doesn’t respond to rational thought alone.
Transition might be asking for a different kind of attention.
This is how I discovered that using a more creative approach made a huge difference. I found that it’s a very effective way to disconnect from the old stories we carry that keep us limited in our possibilities.
Using art-making to who we are and what we’re going through is as ancient as the human race. And many of us already know that making something with our hands gets us out of our heads and into our feelings. Our attention shifts from the future and into the truth of what’s here in the moment.
When we do this, we’re no longer trying to “solve” our lives. We’re giving ourselves a container in which we can acknowledge and release resistance. The process of making imagery (and often accompanying it with words) gives conflicting emotions somewhere to go, often revealing something we couldn’t see by just thinking alone.
Clarity and ease start to show up as steadiness. As a sense of being fully present and willing to meet what is. I’ve found confidence in realizing I don’t need to know what’s next in order to be okay now.
In working with many clients, transition doesn’t require fixing, but starts with becoming observant and expressing what’s going on inside. And that the most helpful step isn’t yet more trying to figure it all out, but expressing what’s going on in the inside that lets our nervous system relax and concern about the future to loosen its grip.
It may sound like a subtle shift, but it changes everything.
This largely unexplored territory of creative expression has become the foundation I invite my clients to explore as they move through various kinds of transition, regardless of whether it involves relationships, health, divorce, career change or retirement.
Once we give ourselves permission to use this approach, we begin to see what’s true and what’s imagined. In addition, we find ourselves open to solutions that wouldn’t have occurred to us if we only used our logical minds.
If you’d like to experience this approach for yourself, you can read about Straw into Gold here.
Picture this:Pic