Between Stories
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Last week, during my Wintering Meditation Workshop, we were reflecting on the quiet rhythms of the season—the invitation to slow down, turn inward, rest, and listen. We spoke about how uncomfortable that can be. How winter doesn’t offer the clear markers of progress we’re used to. No obvious growth. No tidy milestones. Just presence.
A friend in attendance, shared something that was deeply resonant. He had recently retired, and as we talked, he realized that what we’d been naming as wintering mirrored exactly what he was living. The in-between. The space after one identity has ended and before another has fully formed. The uncharted terrain where the familiar structures fall away and the question becomes not What’s next? but Who am I now?
And suddenly, the season made sense in a deeper way.
So many women I work with find themselves here—not because something has gone wrong, but because something has completed. A chapter of deep motherhood. A career that once fit but no longer does. A marriage, a role, a way of orienting to life that has quietly loosened its grip. I lived it myself in the massive transition I experience when I left New Jersey and all things grounding and certain.
"Sometimes God brings times of transition to create transformation." Lynn Cowell
What often follows isn’t clarity—it’s disorientation.
And our culture doesn’t love that.
We’re conditioned to interpret uncertainty as failure, discomfort as something to fix, and not knowing as a problem that requires immediate action. So when we find ourselves unmoored, we tend to tighten. We push. We try to think our way out. We rush toward answers before the questions have finished forming.
But what if this space isn’t asking for resolution?
What if it’s asking for allowing?
Winter doesn’t apologize for being quiet. Seeds don’t rush underground. There’s an intelligence to the pause, even when we don’t understand it from the outside. Something essential is happening beneath the surface—root systems strengthening, energy gathering, form dissolving so something new can eventually take shape.

The same is true for us.
Being between stories can feel deeply unsettling. Identity is a kind of home, and when that home disappears, it can feel like standing in open air. There may be grief here. Relief. Fear. Longing. Often all at once.
This doesn’t mean we’re lost.
It means we’re listening.
It means we're no longer willing to force ourselves into a narrative that no longer fits. And that takes courage—even if it doesn’t feel brave in the moment.
The invitation of this season—both literally and metaphorically—is to soften our urgency. To resist the reflex to demand clarity before it’s ready to arrive. To trust that not knowing is not emptiness, but spaciousness.
Can you be in this space without rushing to label it?
Can you allow yourself to be undefined for a while?
Can you trust that clarity comes not through pressure, but through presence?
Divine timing is not passive. It’s participatory. It asks us to stay, to listen, to feel what’s here rather than leap over it. Often, the wisdom we’re seeking is already forming—quietly, patiently—waiting for us to slow down enough to hear it.
If you’re here right now, between chapters, unsure of what’s next, let this be your reassurance:
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are not failing.
You are in a meaningful pause.
And just like winter inevitably gives way to spring, this season, too, is part of the unfolding. When the time is right, the next story will rise—rooted in everything you’ve allowed yourself to become in the waiting.
Until then, let yourself rest in the mystery. Something is growing. 🌱
Reminders:
You’re wholeheartedly welcome to join us in person for Women’s Circles—a grounded space to slow down, listen inward, and be with what’s unfolding...in commUNITY.
February's theme: The Heart- Boundaries, Love, and Worth. 2/8 & 2/22
I also offer One-on-One Coaching for women in transition and reconnecting to themselves and their dreams. If you’re curious, you’re invited to book a discovery call to see if it's a fit! Sometimes we forget that WE are deserving of some investment too.
With so much love,





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