Something Is Changing, But I Can’t Name It Yet

There are seasons when nothing feels certain.

Not because everything has fallen apart—but because the pieces have quietly started to move.

There’s no announcement.

No clear decision.

Just a sense that the old way of doing things no longer fits, and the new way hasn’t fully arrived.

A stretch. A soft ache. A pull toward something we can’t quite see yet.

This is the in-between.

Not the ending.

Not the beginning.

But the slow loosening that happens just before something becomes.

The temptation in this space is to label it.

To define it.

To make a plan.

But the deeper invitation is to listen.

To notice what is no longer working, without forcing ourselves to fix it.

To sit with what’s unraveling, without rushing to re-weave.

We’re not broken in these moments.

We’re not lost.

We’re simply in process.

And process is sacred.

We forget this sometimes, in a world that demands clarity and action.

But life doesn’t always move in straight lines.

Sometimes it spirals.

Sometimes it drifts

.Sometimes it waits for us to catch up.

So if you're in a season of not-knowing, of loosening, of feeling like you're walking barefoot across something you can’t yet name—this is your reminder:

You’re not failing.

You’re unfolding.

What are you beginning to loosen, even if you haven’t let it go yet?