Are We All in Transition?

“Season’s changing, so I need to make some changes too.”

I can feel something shifting as we settle into the middle part of summer.

It’s Leo season now, and summer is well underway. I’ve always been sensitive to the changing of the seasons—even the seasons within a season. There’s a point every summer where something just shifts. It’s subtle. The days are still hot, the sun still hangs around late, and the energy feels different. We go from the beginning of summer into the middle, moving from initiating energy to fixed energy.

I can feel the shift in myself too. Summer has always carried a certain sense of possibility, along with a slower rhythm that forces you to slow down and simply enjoy it.

I don’t know if anyone else notices it, but I do. Every year I can feel it. And this year, maybe more than ever.

So… things feel different. Lately I’ve found myself wondering: are we all in transition?

That question has been following me around for the past few weeks because every day feels like I’m starting over. It’s like standing outside a door with a handful of keys, playing with the locks. None of them are wrong—they just aren’t quite right. That’s been the feeling lately.

At first, I thought it was just me—then I started talking to people.

Friends. Coworkers. Acquaintances. People I know well, and people I barely know at all. Even people I assumed had their shit together. And after we spoke? I realized they sounded just like me.

The more people opened up, the more I realized almost everyone was trying to get something working. A career. A relationship. Their finances. Their health. Their routine. The next chapter… the next phase that makes everything else make sense. Fortunately, nobody seemed to be falling apart—but nobody seemed completely settled either.

These last two weeks have felt like one giant setup week—my transition week, my “get my cadence back” week. I know what it feels like when my life clicks into rhythm, when my routines disappear into the background and I can simply live inside them and flow. I’m just not there yet.

It’s like I’ve got the blueprint and the schematics, but I haven’t started building yet. Mentally, I know what it’s supposed to be. In reality? I’m trying to get my cadence down so things can feel the way I want them to.

So right now, I’m in limbo.

The best way I can describe it is like waiting for a train. You’re not doing nothing… you’re just waiting. Looking down the tracks, checking your phone, looking up again, and thinking it’ll be here any minute.

That’s what this season feels like.

Even wanting to work out in the park this week became one of those moments. I checked the weather, excited to get outside again, and it was rain… every single day.

I remember looking at my phone and laughing.

Of course it is.

That pretty much describes how things have been going lately.

Not terrible.

Just…

Not yet.

We spend a lot of time talking about the rewards of transition—the new job, the move, the relationship, the breakthrough… the version of ourselves that’s on the other side.

Nobody really talks about what transition asks from you while you’re living inside it.

Most days, I feel like I’m being pulled apart and put back together again. Sleep is fragmented. Thoughts feel disjointed. And I constantly have the feeling that I’m forgetting more than I’m remembering.

I’ve got things mostly right, but not quite. When I’m on, the world’s asleep. And when I’m off, the world’s awake—it’s a surreal feeling.

I’m working what feels like a part-time job, just to make this transition into marketing, while still working my regular job. Then there’s learning new skills and somehow still doing normal human stuff—cooking, grocery shopping, laundry, grooming, answering texts, remembering birthdays, and trying to maintain relationships with the people you care about.

Truthfully, the cooking has been almost non-existent. I’ve been eating out far more than I’d like, making way too many bodega runs. By the time I get home, I don’t have any energy left—I just want to eat and chill.

Most days I’m tired.

Some days I’m completely fried.

And still…

I show up.

Even when it doesn’t feel nice, and even when it’s not so glamorous.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll always have to work this hard?

You start to really feel the grind, but then there are these little moments: someone brings you food at work, a shift goes by quicker than expected, a friend calls at the right time… and for that one phone call, you forget everything that’s been weighing you down.

Ironically, even with all the BS, this has actually been one of my better months—I got a lot done and I had some incredible moments.

It’s even been kind of random too. One night, I was having an amazing conversation with this girl and right in the middle of us talking, she just started making out with me. I was like, wow…I could tell our chat was a vibe, I just didn’t know it was that much of a vibe. Subtle reminders that life can still surprise you, if you let it.

So no, it wasn’t a bad month. Not even close.

And maybe that’s just what transitions feel like—holding uncertainty while you move forward and do it anyway.

Or maybe it’s living slightly out of sync with the reality you’re growing into—carrying around a pocket full of keys, before you’ve found the right door.

Or maybe it’s waiting for a train you know is coming, you just can’t see it yet.

I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out.

But if the conversations I’ve been having lately are any indication… I don’t think I’m the only one.

Until next time.