Listening for What’s Next
There’s a strange moment that comes after you realize something in your life needs to shift. You know you can’t keep going the same way... but the new path often feels foggy at first.
For me, I’ve been in a long productive and focused cycle—creating and offering new programs, overseeing a kitchen renovation, collaborating on my website, and generally getting excited about and birthing new things.
But recently I woke up and realized that what had been bringing me joy... no longer did. My inner creative season was changing. It was time to shift.
Sounds easy, but leaving a productive season, even one you’re ready to leave, can feel surprisingly scary. There isn’t a sign like a hiking trailhead saying, “You were going in this direction; for the new trail, just turn here.”
I’ve been through enough creative seasons to know I didn’t need to figure out what came next. I just needed to slow down, clear some space, and listen.
So I began building more spaciousness into my days. Instead of doing five things, where possible, I did two. I said “no” more often and canceled things that weren’t in alignment with my energy right now. I padded my days with what the Japanese call yutori—or breathing room.
And I started paying attention.
I moved toward small things that made me happy, with no goal other than the experience itself. Sitting at a coffee shop, I smiled as I watched a mother bird hopping around gathering croissant crumbs, then feeding them to her loudly squawking baby. I began creating gentle morning and evening rituals. When I poured my tea, I noticed the shape of the steam rising from my clay mug.
And I began listening for my desires. Small ones. I want to sit on this bench in the park with this book and simply breathe in the freshly mown grass.
Slowly, a sense of spaciousness has opened, along with the bliss of new possibilities glittering like far-off stars.
I don’t feel a need to turn most of those possibilities into action. For now, I’m simply curious about the shape my energy wants to take. I trust that bigger desires will percolate when the time is right.
Maybe you’re in a season like this, too? You know something needs to shift, but you can’t quite see what comes next. Perhaps you don’t need to yet. Maybe, for now, it’s enough to make a little room where you can. To notice what gives you energy and what drains it. To pay attention to the tiny sparks.
Meantime, I am savoring being by my own side, listening to myself, and traveling at the ambling speed of my soul. For this season, that feels just right.