Unknown Zone: The Space Before What’s Next

The Unknown Zone

Transitions are both exciting and destabilizing. We feel the pull of what’s next, and at the same time, the ground beneath us feels less solid.

It’s often the in-between moment that brings the most stress. Not the ending. Not the beginning. It’s that in-between space where nothing is fully formed yet. We tend to rush this part because uncertainty feels… uncomfortable. We try to fill it with plans, productivity, or certainty we don’t actually feel.

I’ve been living in this “unknown zone” recently as I prepare to move into my new office. It’s a moment of expansion, and it’s also a moment that has lit up my nervous system. Both are true.

What I keep reminding myself is that this in-between space isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a threshold I want to cross.

Why Change Can Freak Us Out

New beginnings signal the body to scan for safety, even when the change is something we want.

By the time I was 19, I had lived in twelve different places I called home. My system learned early that change meant adaptation, vigilance, and staying alert. So when something shifts now, even something good, my body pays attention, and my tummy can get upset, tight, or fluttery before my mind even catches up.

If positive change activates your stress response, it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. Your nervous system doesn’t speak in logic. It speaks in sensations. Restlessness. Tightness. Urgency. Overthinking. These aren’t character flaws or failures. They’re signals from your nervous system. 

During this transition, I am noticing all of it. The waiting. The uncertainty. The timing and logistics. My mind wants answers, and my body wants reassurance.

Listening to those messages instead of judging myself has always been part of the challenge, especially when old habits want to label them as weakness instead of wisdom.

The Energy We Weave

Spaces aren’t just physical. They’re energetic containers. New spaces absorb the energy we bring into them, so how we arrive sets the tone for what unfolds there. My intention as I move into this new office is to enter grounded, present, and regulated. Not rushed and depleted. 

I’m creating a space that invites others to slow down, feel safe, and allow deep rest. I’ve learned that begins with how I treat myself in the transition. I’ve had to slow down, allow myself to breathe into it, and REST when I needed to. 

We’re Exhausted From Constant Effort

We live in a culture that praises effort above everything. “Power through. Stay productive. Don’t slow down now.” But when we override our system during times of change, stress doesn’t disappear. It compounds. It settles deeper into the body and can exacerbate any existing dis-ease. New beginnings built on exhaustion tend to carry that energy forward.

We can’t magically arrive refreshed if we never allow ourselves to rest. The energy we carry into each new chapter matters — far more than we realize. And many of us are simply exhausted from trying so hard all the time.

Give Yourself a Fucking Break

Pausing is not stalling. It’s creating space for integration. The pause allows the body to catch up with the mind. It gives the nervous system time to update and say, “I’m safe.”

This is where energy returns and intuition gets louder. Alignment stops being something we chase and starts being something we feel.

During this transition, I’ve been practicing slowing down instead of forcing certainty. Letting the change land in my body has meant noticing when my shoulders tighten or my breath gets shallow, and choosing to pause and breathe instead of pushing through to the next item on my increasingly long to-do list. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable, and it’s also deeply regulating to my nervous system.

Rest Creates Stronger Foundations

A regulated nervous system is more receptive, creative, and resilient. Rest supports sustainable energy, clearer decision-making, and healthier boundaries. Not to mention better mood, better health, improved immunity and more.

Sound, stillness, meditation, and the simple act of allowing myself to receive support have been essential for me during this transition. They remind my system that I don’t have to grip my way into what’s next.

Rest hasn’t weakened my momentum. It’s stabilized it.

An Invitation to Simply Be

You are a human being, not a human doing.

You don’t need to have it all figured out, and you don’t need to rush into the next chapter. Pausing is an act of trust. It’s your chance to breathe and integrate.

Rest is not something we earn after the transition.
It’s what supports us through it.

Wherever you are right now, in your own unknown zone, I invite you to pause. Set down whatever feels heavy. Take a deep, grounding breath, and let your whole body exhale.

There is wisdom in the pause, especially when something new is being born.

Grow on!

Pause for a breath.

Where in your life do you already experience deep rest?
Where does your body long for more of it?
What would it feel like to offer yourself that rest without needing to earn it first?
What might shift if you gave yourself permission to receive rest now, rather than putting it off?

What is one small way you could invite more space for rest into your days?

P.S. In the spirit of slowing down, Love Notes from Your Alchemist will now arrive every other week instead of weekly. Less hustle, more presence. That feels right.