The Itch for Change

Transition is hard. So is settling in. It feels like when we're at home, we long for shift. And when all is fresh and new, we long for finding home. A few of my clients lately have been struggling with feeling like they're in a place that isn't their "it." Others are struggling to find a job that is "it" while kind of hating or really hating their current work.

The truth is that we'll always be in transition in one way or another (because isn't the beauty of life that it's not static). At the same time, we may have the right work settle in at some point. Or we might find our "aha" city that just feels right.

When you're in a transitional "I want change now" sort of space, try to see this "not it" spot as a lab. How can you try on different roles in your town before you settle down into what may actually feel like that ultimate home? How can you create little projects at work that let you test out what you might want to do full on some day? There is a beauty in the transition. It is that in some sense, we're not fully committed to a job or a place and so we're not obsessed about showing up perfectly within it. Because of this, transition is the perfect place for play. For trying on. For testing out. So go ahead, and love that in-between feeling up by getting clear on a few tangible ways you can play in it. Let your life here now be your lab.

Going Solo

Here in Madagascar we're having a wonderfully rainy Saturday. The sky is grey, the breeze is full on cyclone style, and every hour or so a huge burst of water falls from the clouds. I couldn't be more excited. Rainy days here mean I have the excuse to stay in, write, do yoga, clear energy, and work on plans to grow my coaching business and workshops.

Living in a place where life is much slower I've learned there is deep value in time alone and inwards. Back in the US I'd wake up at 6am, get sweaty either on a trail or on my mail, eat breakfast, head to work, teach at the jail, cram in a few evening meetups, hop to yoga, maybe see another friend, then crash. Even on Sundays I was up and at 'em bright and early. 

While I do miss having a big community of friends and a schedule full of life sparking things, I am so happy to now have this gift of settling into time alone with myself. The more that I take time to sit with the uncomfortable sense of unplanned solo time, the more I see my creativity and intuition skyrocket. I don't think this is a coincidence. To tune into life's whispering messages we need to slow down. We need to get quiet. And most importantly, we need to turn our energy into a receptive one. When we go go go we are always outwards, always pushing. When we slow down, we crack open.