The Tender Pause aka 'Transition': The Healing Work of Not Yet Knowing

Lately, I’ve been feeling stuck. Not dramatically, not in crisis—but in that quiet, soul-heavy way where things feel slow, foggy, uninspired. I show up, I do what I can, but there’s a deep tiredness beneath it all. It’s not laziness. It’s not burnout, exactly. It’s something else. Something liminal. Of course there has been unexpected stress and challenge but I see these as invitations to grow wiser, stronger, more resilient and I have always welcomed the teachings and many years later felt the rewards but it does not mean it's easy or known each time we ride this wave.

This is the part of growth we don’t talk about enough. The murky middle. The transition that doesn’t announce itself as transformation, but as an emotional wave or exhaustion. As resistance. As the dull fog. And I’m starting to learn that maybe stuckness isn’t a sign I’m off-track. Maybe it’s a whisper that I’m right where I need to be.

The truth is, we’re not meant to constantly produce, perform, or push through. Our bodies, our nervous systems, and our inner knowing operate in rhythms, cycles and seasons. They speak within the seasonal nature of the pauses, the sudden inspirations, the aches of the body, in that gut feeling that says “something needs to shift. ”And while part of me wants to speed through this phase, there’s another part that knows: this is a sacred threshold.

Sitting in the uncomfortable is not self destruction or self sabotage—it’s an opportunity, a doorway, a window of insight towards the soul's purpose in this life time.

The discomfort is trying to tell me something. Not through logic or reason, but through sensation. Tiredness that won’t be reasoned with. Restlessness that won’t be solved by productivity. A sense of being suspended between who I was and who I’m becoming. I've been here before and i never like landing in this space but I also know it doesn't last.

Our bodies are wise like that. When our minds rush to fix, label, or outrun discomfort, our bodies slow us down. They want us to listen and stay with the language while we process the message.

So I’m trying to listen.

To rest without guilt.

To breathe into the unknown once again.

To trust that this transition—however unclear—is part of the unfolding.

Maybe you’re here too. In the thick of it. Feeling lost or unmotivated or uncertain. If so, I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re not behind. You’re in-between. And that is a place of power, even if it doesn’t look or feel like it yet.

This is the wisdom our culture rarely honors: that stillness, stuckness, and discomfort are often invitations. Not to push harder, but to go deeper. To ask softer questions. To wait for the inner “yes” before charging ahead.

Growth isn’t always a leap. Sometimes it’s a quiet staying. A tender recalibration. A pause before the pivot. Its whats happening beneath the surface that nobody sees, Like the roots beneath the great Oak, we too must allow ourselves to be guided, connected and nurtured by what feeds us, in order to watch the fruits of our growth become visible and ripe.

So if you’re feeling stuck, maybe don’t rush to move on. Instead, try leaning in to the sensations that arise. The answers may not come quickly, but the wisdom of the message will come. And it starts here—in the listening, in the bodys ancient language. We have always known how, its just a case or remembering....