I have had a rough two weeks. One thing fell apart, and suddenly the whole structure, mental, emotional, logistical, started collapsing, just like that, no invitation needed.

I wanted respite. A pause. A rejuvenating breath. A sense that I wasn’t completely lost in my life. But space felt slippery. My thoughts were loud. My heart was louder. And clarity? Not available. Here is the part that’s funny-not-funny: I’m a coach (learning, growing, getting better). I create space for people to navigate exactly this. Big questions, , leadership conundrums, change that doesn’t come with a roadmap. But I’m not immune. I’m in it too. And sometimes, there’s nothing to do but sit in the mess and wait for your nervous system to unclench (what to do when a coach needs a coach?).

I kept thinking of Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. But before the gold, things fall apart. Fully. Sometimes dramatically. Sometimes quietly, in the middle of a Tuesday Board meeting. Sometimes, quietly, in the thick of the night.

What does one do when you're in that space? Nothing. It’s not about rushing to the gold. (Similarly, coaching isn’t about fixing anything. It's not about working with someone who is going to give you the answers). It is about being in the in-between. Space like that is the gold. And necessary for the respite to emerge.

If you’re in it too, no clarity, feeling lost, eager for the answers you are not alone. Sometimes the win is just showing up and having company on the ride, cracked bits and all.