Not Quite There Yet (and That’s Okay)

There’s something strange about the space between big life changes.

You remain anchored in your old routines, yet your mind drifts forward, drawn to what lies ahead, how it might feel, and who you could become. This evokes a strange sense of limbo.

Lately, it’s reminded me of how the seasons shift. Not with one sudden change, but with a slow unfurling. Spring doesn’t arrive all at once—it tiptoes in quietly while winter lingers in the corners.

If you live in the North, you know it well: a few warm days of soft air and melted snow, followed by a surprise blizzard that wipes everything clean again. It’s messy, unpredictable, and somehow still full of beauty.

Our lives mirror this rhythm, especially when we’re in seasons of waiting. We anticipate what’s next. We try to live in the future. But in doing that, we often miss what’s happening now.

As we wait for our house to sell and prepare for a new chapter, I’ve been reminded that there’s still so much presence to be found right here. In this in-between.

What if, instead of resisting the discomfort, we softened into it? What if we stayed rooted in who we are right now? Not who we were, not who we hope to become—but simply, gently, presently here. Nature teaches us this with every slow turn of the season.

Growth isn’t always visible. Shifts don’t always come with clarity. But they’re happening all the same. And the only true place we can meet them… is now. So if you’re in the waiting, too—

Pause.

Take a breath.

Notice the ground beneath you.

And remember: this moment is the only thing truly real.

Until the next note, my friend,

.RS