In between leaps

In between leaps

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about who I am, and I think, for better or worse, I’m someone who takes leaps. Not because I’m fearless, I’m not. I’ve been scared more times than I can count. I’ve left places I loved, stepped into things I wasn’t fully ready for, and put myself in situations where I didn’t have a clear plan. But I still did it. I don’t wait until everything makes sense. I just… go. And somehow, that’s always been a part of me.

These past few weeks have been a different kind of crazy. Not the kind where everything is moving so fast you don’t have time to think, where your calendar is full and you’re just going from one thing to the next without stopping. This is the opposite. It’s the kind where you wake up and there’s space, too much space, almost. You check your email more than you want to admit. You refresh things that don’t change. You tell yourself you’ll be productive, and then the day stretches in a way that feels both slow and somehow gone before you realize it. You go on walks and end up thinking more than you expected — about your life, your choices, what’s next, what didn’t work out the way you thought it would. And because everything is quieter, your thoughts are louder.

Sometimes that’s been good. There are moments where things click, where I feel grounded, where I can actually see how much I’ve grown and why I’ve made the choices I’ve made. But other times, it’s not good at all. It’s overthinking, second-guessing, wondering if I should have done things differently. Sitting in that kind of quiet forces you to face things you’ve been able to outrun before.

I’m in this in-between space right now — looking for a job, trying to figure out what comes next, not fully knowing where I’m going to land. Some days feel heavy, uncertain, even a little discouraging. I have so much time to rest, technically. And I do rest. I sleep more, I slow down, I give myself space. But I’m still tired in a way that doesn’t really make sense, like something in me is still catching up, still processing, still trying to make sense of everything at once.

But at the same time, there are good things happening around me. There’s love. There are people who show up for me in ways I don’t always stop to notice. There are small moments (laughing, sitting with someone, feeling understood) that remind me that my life is still full, even in a moment like this. And it would feel unfair, honestly, to ignore that. To only focus on what’s uncertain and not allow myself to see what’s still good.

I don’t want this moment to define me. I don’t want to look back and think of this as the time I was stuck or lost. If anything, change is what has always defined me. I’ve always been someone who keeps going, who adjusts, who grows — even when it’s uncomfortable, even when things don’t look the way I expected them to. And maybe this is just another version of that.

Maybe this is still a leap, just not the kind I’m used to. Not forward in a visible way, not something I can point to and say “this is what I’m doing.” Maybe it’s a leap into sitting with myself, into patience, into trusting that something is still unfolding even if I can’t see it yet.

I’m trying to hold both things at once. The uncertainty and the gratitude. The tiredness and the hope. The fact that I don’t know what’s next, and the belief that something will come.

I’m just in between. And maybe, without realizing it, I’m still doing what I’ve always done — learning, changing, and becoming, even here.