What Holds You Steady When Everything Starts to Shift
The Quiet Shift
The leaves have changed and I don’t know if it’s just the seasons that are shifting or if something within me has begun to shift as well. I know that autumn holds within it the steady caress of transformation and provides us with the power to release our burdens and let them cascade away into the winds of change.
These months offer respite that I had not before known or understood, and I find pieces of myself I believe to have been forgotten beneath cornerstones and parts of the garden that I had not graced with bare feet since the spring.
I am not forgetting who I have been, but it seems that I am instead carving out space inside and all around myself for who I am becoming.
I will lay the old pieces to rest with the foliage as it decays in the yard, to be taken over by the snowfall, and come spring, new offerings of blessings shall reclaim where once I buried forgotten dreams.
Just as the seasons change in their own subtle and sometimes egregious ways, so too do I find myself shifting with crisp notes of uncertainty. I’ve been asked how I find myself so sure of who I’m becoming, and the short answer is that sometimes I’m not.
"By nature, we are creatures of rhythm. When we find ourselves in a spiral of uncertainty, we must create new rhythms where none existed before."
It’s not perfect, and some days it doesn’t feel sustainable, but it’s carried me this far. Sitting here in the space of my own creation, the weight of it all can be heavy. Yet when I remember what I’m creating within and around myself, it no longer feels daunting. I allow my dreams to fall around me, each one a blessing of opportunity waiting to be seen.
Redefining Stability
Our true stability is not held in our rigidity, but in our ability to adapt without losing ourselves in the process.
For so long, I thought being steady meant holding everything together all the time. But through experience (and plenty of trial and error), I’ve learned that real stability is about trusting that the ground beneath me can hold me while I change.
And the foundation I’ve built feels different this time. That’s probably because of how I’ve chosen to build it, after realizing just how unstable the last one truly was.
I am softer now. More gentle. Slower and more intentional in my movements and my actions as I add to this foundation, piece by piece, brick by brick.
"Somehow, this new rhythm, this new process of creation, has allowed both the foundation and myself to become stronger, sturdier, and more steady."
Because I have found that stability means so much more than just surviving. It’s about cultivating trust.
Trust in the process.
Trust in my own natural rhythms.
And most importantly, trust in myself and my own abilities.
When the Old Structure Stops Working
There comes a moment when the old scaffolding can no longer support who you’re becoming. Sometimes we outgrow our old foundations not because they failed us, but because they were built for a version of us that no longer exists.
I used to believe that letting go of what once supported me meant failure, as if tearing down the walls of a home that no longer felt safe made me ungrateful for its shelter. But there’s a strange grace in realizing that we can love something deeply and still know it’s time to move on from it.
The routines, the expectations, even the relationships that once provided a sense of certainty were built for a different chapter. And when that chapter ends, we can’t keep living inside the same structure expecting it to hold the expansion of what’s next.
Outgrowing the old isn’t about loss, it’s about evolution. Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is step out from beneath a roof that no longer fits and stand bare beneath the sky, uncertain but free.
So ask yourself:
Where are you still trying to stand on something that no longer feels solid?
What beliefs, habits, or roles are you clinging to out of comfort, even as they crack beneath your feet?
Because what’s falling away beneath you is the false foundation you’ve outgrown.
Building from Trust
When everything around you begins to shift, trust becomes the only structure strong enough to hold you.
And trust is built in quiet, ordinary moments, when you show up for yourself again and again without needing validation, certainty, or proof that it’s working.
It’s in the moment you pause to breathe instead of pushing harder. It’s in choosing clarity over chaos, rest over reaction, alignment over approval.
Every time you choose to trust your next step, even when it makes no logical sense, the ground beneath you strengthens. You start to realize that maybe stability was never something you had to find out there. Maybe it’s been growing within you all along.
"Every time you choose to trust your next step, the ground beneath you strengthens."
A new foundation is built one choice at a time:
Identify what’s essential right now.
Ask yourself: What truly matters in this moment, and what’s noise I can release?Protect what grounds you.
Your peace. Your time. Your energy. These are sacred, not luxuries, but necessities.Trust what’s unfolding.
Even if you can’t see how it connects yet, trust that your becoming is right on time.
Because building from trust means surrendering control. It means allowing yourself to be held by the process instead of forcing the outcome.
This is what rebuilding from truth looks like: not rushing the timeline, but allowing it to reveal itself in rhythm with your readiness.
Closing Reflection + Invitation
A strong foundation doesn’t mean you never shake. It means that when life changes, you flex instead of break.
Maybe that’s what this season really is, not a falling apart, but a re-rooting. A returning to what’s real. A remembering of your strength.
You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to shift your pace. You are allowed to rebuild as many times as you need to.
"The process of becoming is rarely linear. Every ending feeds a beginning. Every dismantling makes space for creation."
If everything around you feels uncertain, take a breath and come back to what you know to be true, your capacity to rebuild, your willingness to trust, and the quiet steadiness that’s been with you all along.
And the ground beneath you, though it may tremble, is still yours to stand on.
That’s what we’ll be exploring inside Her Story Unwritten, rebuilding from truth, presence, and trust in what’s forming next.
Her Story Unwritten begins Monday, November 3.
Learn more & secure your spot here.
