How to Thrive in the In-Between Times
You made it. You’re here. It’s finally December.
Now, we wait.
We’re waiting for the Holiday break, the end of the year, the start of a new one. We want to be intentional with our days, with our lives. We’re not interested in getting swept away by the never-ending list of things we’re being told to buy, worry about, or hitch our wagon to.
And yet, we want the magic of the season, too.
We’re not interested in trying to force anything or trying to control everything and everyone around us just so we don’t feel what’s going on inside of us. We want it all, the good and the ugly, the sense of loss and the magic of the season, the memories both new and old. And we want to be open to all the good that might come, too.
It’s an in-between time.
Sometimes whole years or a whole season of life can feel like in-between times too. Times when we’re waiting, watching, hoping for something, even if we don’t quite know what that something is. Especially compared to where we’ve been.
That’s where I am, at least.
On this day 17 years ago, I was selling everything I owned and packing my life into five suitcases to move to Sydney, Australia with my new husband and our first baby.
On this day 10 years ago, I’d sold everything again and was packing my life into the Airstream that would take me and my husband and our two little boys on a full-time travel adventure across the USA and back again for their whole childhood.
On this day 3 years ago, in the face of a global pandemic, I was launching my own company and moving my husband and our teenagers out of our Airstream and into the little cabin in Maine that would become our home.
But today, I’m not launching anything or moving anywhere that I know of. I’m not selling all of my belongings, nor does it look like I’ll be setting out on any years-long adventures any time soon. Earlier this year, I published my second book, created and hosted my absolute favorite women’s retreat of all time, and my oldest kiddo became an adult and moved away to college. That feels like a lot. And yet, I want to stay open for magic in the days to come, too.
I’m starting to accept that I might be in an in-between time.
It’s okay—we can thrive in the in-between times.
Just in case you’re feeling that in-between feeling right now too, here are three quote cards I’m meditating on daily to show me how to thrive in the in-between. . .
Want to join me?
Click on the images below to download and save as a phone background or print for your mirror, journal, fridge—wherever. (& keep reading below for a few more things helping me thrive)
Only a few weeks remain.
We’re buying all sorts of things, wrapping them up and placing them under trees inside our homes. We’re thinking about what went well this year, what we want more of in the new year, and how it feels to be waiting for all of it to begin.
We’re still in between.
And since the feeling keeps going on and on and on, here are three more things to help us thrive while we wait.
#1— A novel
I first read Wish You Were Here by Jodi Piccoult a couple of winters ago when it was first released. (Actually, I listened to it because the narrator on the audio version is stellar and quickly becoming one of my favorites.) It’s a pandemic novel, one of the best if you ask me, and I loved it, but it hit a little too close to home being so close on the heels of safety from the virus. So, since things are better now and this book features a woman on an adventure to a tropical island, which I just happened to be dreaming about last week, I decided to give it another read. This time, I’m loving it so much that I’m losing myself in it. Give it a go if you like that sort of thing. (Or if you’ve already read Wish You Were Here, here’s another pandemic novel I loved recently— Tom Lake by Ann Patchett. . . . more on that later.)
#2— A playlist
One of the character flaws I’ve developed by growing older is that I don’t listen to a lot of music anymore. (Admittedly, I don’t think it’s a flaw to relish moments of silence but my music-loving family believes it to be.) So when I recently discovered the perfect playlist for reading, writing, car rides alone, and basically turning any day brighter, I saved it and I’ve been sharing it with friends. This sweet little group of songs came into my life back in October when I spent the weekend at Yellow House Inn in Bar Harbor for this year’s women’s retreat, and when I say I love it, I really love it. (Song #30 is my favorite) It’s making these in-between days a little brighter. Listen to it here anytime you like. I hope you love it too.
#3— A gift from Mother Nature
This week it snowed in my neck of the woods—a lot. A blanket of white that unexpectedly came in the middle of the night, and I found my heart lifted and my soul warmed by it. I walked outside with my people a little each day and watched our regular old hiking trail turn into something from Narnia. We were surprised by its magic. And this morning as I write, the trees outside my window are still blanketed in white. It’s serving as a reminder to me about the beauty of seasons, how down times, fallow seasons, and in-betweens can hold their own charms if we let them. (Here’s a snow photo carousel and a snowy wonderland video I posted on the ‘gram if you’re interested.) Whether or not you live somewhere with drastic season changes, I hope you find a gift from Mother Nature in your neck of the woods this weekend, too.
Also, If I may, I would love to offer you this. . .
A message from my heart, a warning that’s come barreling through this week in ways I can’t ignore, something I’m pondering right now. . .
How true it is that we control almost nothing. How true it is that the more we embrace our lack of control, the more joy we introduce into our lives. On the flip side, though, the more we try to wrangle people, circumstances, timelines, outcomes, or anything really, into our particular opinion of how they ought to be, the more miserable we make ourselves and those around us.
While it is true that we have some agency over our lives and a certain amount of responsibility to show up for ourselves, to show love for our people, to do the work we’ve been called to, to love and care for our world, to make our own dreams come true, we only have part of that equation.
We don’t have all it takes to make it all happen at any given moment and we never will.
We have to trust the people in our lives to have and do and be the other part. We have to trust them to be smart and kind and to show up for us, too. We have to trust that everything isn’t up to us, that not everything is on our shoulders. We have to detach sometimes, at least once a day, and just be.
Just be, my friend.
Just be.