Being in it tends to turn into another thing to be good at. You stop trying to figure it out, and about a week later you're checking whether you're doing the not-figuring-it-out right.
I can relate to this. I started my publication with the idea to document our life with our current sailboat and the dream we had to do the boat-life thing full time. It quickly morphed into conversations around midlife reinvention and I saw just how many of us are here on Substack doing some version of that. It's freaking amazing.
Now, we're at a potentially huge crossroads with a boat project and documentary film that could take up the next several years of life. It's so exciting and so overwhelming all at the same time. So I'm here trying to figure it out as I go as well.
What do they say ... building the plane in mid-flight? Yep, that sounds about right!
The oscillation you named is exactly it — and I don't think the panic version ever fully goes away. It just gets less convincing over time. You start to recognize it for what it is instead of obeying it.
This made me think of doing the work and then being hit with that “light bulb moment” where everything makes sense and you all of a sudden have clarity and direction.
For me, I’m trying to land where I fit. This means, for me, working somewhere that is aligned with my values and gives me fulfillment. I keep trying to figure out what that means for me. I’m 50, what career path do I want to be on (until my business takes off)?
I recognize this so much — so many of us spent years being excellent at solving problems with a clear deliverable, and then hit the one question that has no framework at all. Sitting in that middle without forcing clarity is its own kind of work. Thank you for writing from inside it.
"No framework at all" — that's exactly it. Everything else in that career had a rubric. This one doesn't. Thank you for reading and for naming it so precisely.
I love the way you framed this. I think more of us operate this way than we sometimes realize it. The older I get, the more open I become to discovering new things along the way that may change my path. And that's actually a more interesting journey. (And this is coming from a very Type A, organized, Chief of Staff type...)
"A very Type A, organized, Chief of Staff type" finding that open is more interesting than planned — that's the whole essay. Thank you for reading and for that.
Yes! Thanks for writing from the in between! I really resonate with your point about how clarity doesn't come first. That was so true for me. It was like I had to feel my way through the dark, and eventually I saw a crack of light, and then another and another. I'm getting clearer and clearer as I go, but it's still unfolding.
"A crack of light, and then another and another" — that's exactly the shape of it. Not one big reveal. Just the path becoming visible one step at a time. So glad you're here.
I’m 74 and still building. Even when one part feels concluded, it immediately leads to another, so i’m back at the beginning or in the middle. I’ve learned to enjoy the process of building.
I am starting to understand what you mean now that I am almost a year into it. It is like being more present in all that you do instead of hurrying through something just to cross it off the list.
You're not alone in the middle. I'm writing my way through something too, finding out what I mean as I go — which is not how I've ever done anything else. Thank you for saying it plainly, while you're still inside it.
This feels like one of the bravest things to admit: not that you’re lost, but that you’re in the middle and willing to stay there. So many of us rush to conclusions before we’ve even arrived. X
The part about the executive operating system having no framework for a question with no deliverable — that’s the thing nobody who’s good at their job gets warned about. I spent years mistaking “I can solve this” for “I can be in this.” They’re not the same muscle, and the second one doesn’t respond to competence at all.
"I can solve this" was my entire operating system for forty years. I walked into retirement with a spreadsheet. Turns out there is no formula for figuring out where to spend yourself when the job stops telling you.
I wrote about that exact wall in one of my first essays — "we are smart women, we can figure this out" — and then had to sit with the fact that figuring out wasn't the skill I needed. Being in it was. I'm still learning the difference.
Being in it tends to turn into another thing to be good at. You stop trying to figure it out, and about a week later you're checking whether you're doing the not-figuring-it-out right.
Isn't that the truth!
I can relate to this. I started my publication with the idea to document our life with our current sailboat and the dream we had to do the boat-life thing full time. It quickly morphed into conversations around midlife reinvention and I saw just how many of us are here on Substack doing some version of that. It's freaking amazing.
Now, we're at a potentially huge crossroads with a boat project and documentary film that could take up the next several years of life. It's so exciting and so overwhelming all at the same time. So I'm here trying to figure it out as I go as well.
What do they say ... building the plane in mid-flight? Yep, that sounds about right!
So exciting- I will be looking forward to more.
No to what?
lol sorry I was texting someone else- fat fingers
Ok! 😂
How exciting- I hope you post about your progress - it sounds very interesting!
Oh, I definitely will! I'm actually flying out to Victoria this weekend to look at the boat. So, potentially big things on the horizon!
“then had to sit with the fact that figuring out wasn't the skill I needed. Being in it was. I'm still learning the difference.”
This is where I’m at too.
Some days it’s panic to “Figure it out now!” and other days it’s “F it, I’ll figure it out”.
Learning to be in it has been one of the biggest challenges of my life.
Thanks for making us all know we’re not alone. ✨
The oscillation you named is exactly it — and I don't think the panic version ever fully goes away. It just gets less convincing over time. You start to recognize it for what it is instead of obeying it.
So true. Day by day it’s loosening its grip over me.
This made me think of doing the work and then being hit with that “light bulb moment” where everything makes sense and you all of a sudden have clarity and direction.
For me, I’m trying to land where I fit. This means, for me, working somewhere that is aligned with my values and gives me fulfillment. I keep trying to figure out what that means for me. I’m 50, what career path do I want to be on (until my business takes off)?
The light bulb moment is real — in my experience it tends to arrive quietly, not all at once. Glad the essay resonated.
Thanks for sharing your journey with us!
I recognize this so much — so many of us spent years being excellent at solving problems with a clear deliverable, and then hit the one question that has no framework at all. Sitting in that middle without forcing clarity is its own kind of work. Thank you for writing from inside it.
"No framework at all" — that's exactly it. Everything else in that career had a rubric. This one doesn't. Thank you for reading and for naming it so precisely.
I love the way you framed this. I think more of us operate this way than we sometimes realize it. The older I get, the more open I become to discovering new things along the way that may change my path. And that's actually a more interesting journey. (And this is coming from a very Type A, organized, Chief of Staff type...)
"A very Type A, organized, Chief of Staff type" finding that open is more interesting than planned — that's the whole essay. Thank you for reading and for that.
Yes! Thanks for writing from the in between! I really resonate with your point about how clarity doesn't come first. That was so true for me. It was like I had to feel my way through the dark, and eventually I saw a crack of light, and then another and another. I'm getting clearer and clearer as I go, but it's still unfolding.
"A crack of light, and then another and another" — that's exactly the shape of it. Not one big reveal. Just the path becoming visible one step at a time. So glad you're here.
Synchronicity! I just wrote about moving between modes of thinking. https://cindylcain.substack.com/p/triage-thinking?r=58k30j&utm_medium=ios
It sounds like you’re doing the exhausting work of developing a new mode. Be kind to yourself and don’t forget to rest.
I’m 74 and still building. Even when one part feels concluded, it immediately leads to another, so i’m back at the beginning or in the middle. I’ve learned to enjoy the process of building.
I am starting to understand what you mean now that I am almost a year into it. It is like being more present in all that you do instead of hurrying through something just to cross it off the list.
I think being present is the key.
You're not alone in the middle. I'm writing my way through something too, finding out what I mean as I go — which is not how I've ever done anything else. Thank you for saying it plainly, while you're still inside it.
That's exactly it — finding out what you mean as you go. I keep waiting for the version of me that already knows, and she's not coming.
Good to be in it alongside you.
This feels like one of the bravest things to admit: not that you’re lost, but that you’re in the middle and willing to stay there. So many of us rush to conclusions before we’ve even arrived. X
Thank you, Claire — 'X' Yes, exactly, and honestly the rushing-to-conclusions part is the harder habit to break than admitting I'm lost.
I kept wanting to skip to the tidy ending before I'd even lived the middle part.
The part about the executive operating system having no framework for a question with no deliverable — that’s the thing nobody who’s good at their job gets warned about. I spent years mistaking “I can solve this” for “I can be in this.” They’re not the same muscle, and the second one doesn’t respond to competence at all.
"I can solve this" was my entire operating system for forty years. I walked into retirement with a spreadsheet. Turns out there is no formula for figuring out where to spend yourself when the job stops telling you.
I wrote about that exact wall in one of my first essays — "we are smart women, we can figure this out" — and then had to sit with the fact that figuring out wasn't the skill I needed. Being in it was. I'm still learning the difference.