Unbound space: navigating between life stages
How comfortable are you with the unknown?
Y’know, that period of time between two stages of life.
You’ve let go of an old shape. Perhaps an identity, a job, a relationship. But you’ve not yet discovered your new form. It sits beyond the horizon, bent through the haze of time.
This experience is called the unbound space.
Being without a shape is so unfamiliar and uncomfortable that we have the temptation to rush towards the future. We want something solid to grasp onto.
But we do ourselves a disservice by doing this. We end up defining and limiting something before it’s born into its full potential.
I’ve been exploring this concept myself recently. I left my home in Melbourne after 1.5 years. It felt like the right time to leave and step into a new life. A slower, more natural existence in New Zealand.
When I’d settled on the decision (which admittedly took many months), the steps formed quickly.
I told my friends, by boss, my landlord. I sold my possessions, closed off my bills and accounts. I booked a flight and stepped on board to the future.
As challenging as this was, both emotionally and administratively, it was also relatively easy. The steps were defined and clear. I had a goal in mind and I was determined. I didn’t really think beyond arriving in New Zealand because I had full confidence in my decision.
Within a few weeks, I was in an Airbnb in Auckland. Alone. Living out of a suitcase in a new environment, cold and disorientated. For a while, I kept moving thanks to the natural momentum that had built up in me as I accelerated towards leaving. I explored the city, went to events and made grand plans.
But then reality settled in.
Everything I’d left behind.
And everything that was now unclear.
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I had left my friends, my beautiful home, my comfort. And here I was, in a dingy basement apartment where I’d seen a cockroach for the first time in my life.
My instinct was to push and persevere. I had to build my new life quickly. Find a place to live, make new friends, join new activities, work on my projects. After all, if I didn’t have these things, it would feel like I had left everything behind for nothing.
But my body had different plans. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. I fell sick. I couldn’t focus. I didn’t have the energy to do anything new. I didn’t want to socialise. I didn’t want to explore.
But instead of resisting these feelings, I sank into them and allowed them to be.
It felt like my body was telling me to slow down. To process things. To feel grief.
The body has a natural intelligence. After all, it’s the engine of our life and yet never asks for us to consciously pull levers and turn dials. It just manages itself.
I decided to trust what it was telling me.
I had arrived at the unbound space.
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This space is similar to the period of time before a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. As it enters its cocoon, its whole body disintegrates into a mush. It has to return to putty before being remoulded.
This is a natural process. And yet the temptation can be to return to the shape we know. The reassuring contours of a caterpillar. Its slow and steady life, munching on leaves.
In these moments of doubt, trust your inner wisdom. You knew what you were getting yourself into.
If you’ve broken up with your partner, allow yourself to break down. Let the pieces fall apart. Allow yourself to be confused, to be a little crazy, to feel grief. Get comfortable with yourself again. You’ve just divested yourself from a combined form. Don’t rush into another relationship simply because that’s the shape you recognise.
If you’ve quit your job because you knew it wasn’t serving you, allow yourself to sit in the uncertainty of what’s coming next. Don’t rush into the first job offer you receive because you’re craving its security (assuming you have the means of course). Trust in your decision.
A little bit of time and patience creates conditions for creativity.
Allow yourself to be pregnant with the possibility of something new.
The universe will do the rest.