Finding Anchors in Times of Transition and Uncertainty
Meeting Ourselves at The Threshold Between The Old and New
We all navigate moments where it feels like our life is becoming ‘undone’.
Whether that’s relationships ending, burnout, grief, uncertainty, collective unease, or natural seasonal changes in a woman’s life such as transitions into motherhood or the menopause.
In those times, it can feel like the stability we have known is pulled from under our feet.
Like a plant that has been uprooted, we become untethered, hanging in the liminal space between what has been and what is yet to come.
We feel disoriented, as if walking into unknown terrain without a map to guide us.
Burnout was certainly that experience for me - a complete breakdown of everything I knew, a profound feeling of being lost within myself and my own life, and no way to make sense of my experience, let alone orient forward.
There have been many more, smaller moments of transitions in my life since.
In somatics, we often refer to these moments as ‘thresholds’ - places of both endings and beginnings.
In those moments, our minds tend to search for something to hold on to: a clear next step, a plan, a way to move through the uncertainty.
It desperately seeks to rebuild some version of stability.
And this impulse makes sense.
Because our nervous system is wired for predictability and safety. It loves what is known, familiar, repeated and habitual.
But some thresholds require us to stay present to the uncertainty rather than rushing to resolve it.
If we move too quickly, we risk making choices and decisions rooted in fear and survival, rather than reflecting our true desires.
When we stand at these thresholds, instead of rushing through and forward, we are invited:
To slow down.
To be with the discomfort of not knowing.
To listen more deeply to the quieter movements inside us that reveal what might come next, often layer by layer.
To trust that this, too, shall pass, and that what may be ending will, in time, pave the way for something new to emerge.
Leaning on anchors during these times is vital to create enough steadiness inside and around us to make space for a new, meaningful path to appear.
It helps us to stay with ourselves in the uncertainty and to navigate these liminal spaces with more ease and inner stability.
Finding Anchors in Times of Transition
Anchors are small islands of safety we can rest on to catch a breath, create a sense of structure, and root deeper when it feels like the ground beneath us is shaking. They help stabilise our nervous system.
Anchoring ourselves is about creating enough internal and external stability to move through change without losing ourselves inside it.
What anchors each one of us might look very different, but here are three ways that I have found helpful to anchor myself at times of uncertainty and transition:
Practising simple rituals: rituals are small nourishing acts and practices that we repeat regularly. They signal continuity, familiarity and belonging to our body. They can be as simple as lighting a candle or taking a quiet moment to drink a cup of tea first thing in the morning.
Mindful presence: at times of transition, presence is the willingness to stay with ourselves moment by moment, and be with our experience with curiosity, openness and compassion. Being with ourselves in the liminal space requires courage, patience and a foundation of inner stability, but it is what allows us to process our emotions, rather than numbing or suppressing them.
Being held in relationships or community: being in the company of others who aren’t intending to fix our pain or resolve our problems reminds us that we are held in our experience, that we don’t have to navigate it all alone, and that transition moments are a natural part of all of our lives.
While these anchors don’t eliminate the discomfort of change, they offer ways to process what is unfolding and to let our nervous system know that we are safe as we move through what is unfamiliar, unknown and uncomfortable.
In the sections that follow, we will explore how each of these pathways supports resilience, reorientation, and deeper stability during times of transition.
Rituals and the Nervous System: Restoring Rhythm and Safety
When we move through periods of transition, some of the familiar cues that let our body know we are safe disappear.
As our nervous system is wired for predictability, it can easily tip into hypervigilance, disconnection, or exhaustion.
This means that it becomes even more important to establish rhythms and sources of nourishment that foster a sense of being held and cared for.
Rituals provide a gentle structure that the body can recognise and trust. They can turn the mundane into something purposeful and meaningful and offer small, accessible ways to find agency and rooting in our everyday life when we are moving through periods of change or uncertainty.
Neuroscience confirms what ancient traditions have always known: the practice of rituals regulates the nervous system by creating patterns of safety and predictability.
They activate the parasympathetic branch of the nervous system responsible for rest, digestion, and repair. Even a few minutes of intentional ritual can help reduce cortisol levels, deepen our breath, and restore a felt sense of stability.
Not all rituals need to be elaborate or time-consuming.
Simple practices, such as closing the day with a brief reflection, stepping outside each morning to soak in the early light, lighting a candle, or placing a hand on our heart before making a decision, can have a profound cumulative effect.
It isn’t so much about what we do, but more about the tender signal it delivers, which says: "You are held. You are not alone. I’m here with you."
Rituals help us to stay tethered to ourselves inside the wave of change unfurling around us.
Mindful Presence as an Anchor
Mindful presence means being aware of our experience in the moment, on purpose, without judgment. At times of challenges or transitions, presence is the willingness to notice what is arising within us and to hold or witness our emotions and sensations with compassion.
When our minds are whirring into fear, coming back to the sensation of the cool air on our skin or orienting to the room we are in can offer a moment of respite.
There are a couple of prerequisites for presence, particularly in difficult times:
The first one is cultivating enough inner stability to be able to hold our experience without drowning in its ‘bigness. Learning to lean on inner and outer resources to feel more sturdy as we ‘dip our toes’ into the emotions and sensations present in our body, little by little. Cultivating this inner stability can start with sleeping enough, eating nourishing food, practising grounding through breath or movement, spending time in nature and tending to our needs with care.
Helpful questions to ask ourselves here are: How much can I be with right now? What would allow me to stay connected to what’s present without losing myself?
When our nervous system feels steadier, presence becomes more accessible.
The second one is the ability to oscillate between the discomfort that we experience (uncomfortable emotions, tightness in the body, etc.) and these sources of stability. This allows us to catch a breath and nourish ourselves, pendulating between what feels ok and what might feel a little more uncomfortable. Sometimes, our emotions are too big to hold on our own, or we need a gentle guide to help us through this process and working with a somatic coach helps to provide the stability and guidance needed to be with our experience without collapsing.
And finally self-compassion - holding ourselves with a quality of kindness and gentleness, as we would if we were supporting someone we care deeply about. Withholding judgment, and reminding ourselves of how challenging this human journey can be at times, as well as how much resilience we have all harvested through years of living.
At times, presence can look like sitting quietly with uncertainty.
At others, it might look like tending to our inner foundation by moving, resting, reaching out for support.
We find presence through small acts that help us to stay connected with ourselves.
Presence, when anchored in stability, discernment and compassion allows us to move through transition without abandoning ourselves and without forcing what is not yet ready to unfold.
The Medicine of Gathering and Belonging
While individual practices can help steady us, we are not designed to navigate change (and life) in isolation.
We are relational beings, wired for connection.
Our nervous systems evolved in the context of co-regulation and finding safety, rhythm, and meaning in connection with others.
In times of transition, gathering with others in intentional ways offers something that goes far beyond simple comfort: it restores a fundamental sense of safety and belonging.
When we are seen and heard without judgment, when our internal experiences are mirrored by others walking their own thresholds, we feel deeply held - and our nervous system senses it.
Being in community in this sense is not about fixing one another or rushing to find answers. It offers an opportunity to let ourselves be held by a web of nourishing relationships, and a place where change can unfold without being pathologised or judged. A space where slowness, confusion, and not having all the answers is welcome.
Relational anchoring provides a stabilising force, by letting our nervous system know that we are no longer navigating the unknown alone.
It fosters deeper emotional resilience, self-trust, and a sturdier capacity to meet life’s non-linear path.
Gathering during times of change helps us remember that resilience is not just an individual capacity, but a relational one.
Rooting Ourselves to Navigate the Unknown
There is no denying that transitions are demanding, unsettling and challenging to navigate.
They leave us without the familiar landmarks that help us to feel grounded, stable, and tethered.
When I think of these moments, I often picture myself moving across a deep ridge. Having to let go of one ledge (the known, the familiar) to reach across to the other one (the new and unknown), hanging in the air for a while, without knowing exactly where I will land - and trusting that my hand will reach firm ground in time.
It’s no wonder it feels untethering. And yet, even in this liminal space, we can find a little more steadiness.
Rituals can bring us back into our bodies and help us feel held.
Moments of presence can interrupt the cycle of urgency and help us meet ourselves where we are, as we are.
Nurturing communities and relationships can offer us a space to be seen and heard, validated in our challenges, and reminded of our common humanity.
When we can’t see what lies ahead, we don’t have to try and figure it all out, all at once, all alone.
The invitation is to stay close enough to ourselves, to what restores, nourishes, and steadies us, and to keep moving through with trust, as things unfold.
With enough patience, enough tending, the next steps eventually find their way to us.
If you are navigating a period of tender transition or finding the uncertainty in the world overwhelming, and you are curious about how I could support you to find more ease, inner peace and stability amidst the unknown, please get in touch or schedule a brief, no-obligation call here. Together, we will explore where you are, and how we can craft a nurturing path forward.
