Life Doesn’t Have to Be Settled for You to Be
Finding comfort, creativity, and joy in the in-between spaces.
When Things Settle Down…
“When things settle down and I’m in the right headspace, I’ll have more time to write something worth reading.”
As creatives, how many times do we utter a version of this phrase: either quietly to ourselves or aloud to the people closest to us who know our hearts and the yearning we carry to express ourselves?
Life in Motion
Six weeks ago, I was taking my parents on a once-in-a-lifetime tour across southern Japan.
Five weeks ago, I was welcoming my sailor home from his very last deployment of his career and relearning how to live with another person in my home. (As a highly-sensitive hermit, this can take some getting used to, even when the other person is my very best friend/soul mate.)
Three weeks ago, I was moving everything out of a space that held so much growth, but also so much pain. I watched the movers pack away our belongings to be shipped from Japan to San Diego while I mourned leaving the very last place my best friend and soul pup ever breathed life.
Two weeks ago, I was thrust from the crowded, quiet streets of Yokohama into the busy, insanely loud casinos of Las Vegas with such a culture whiplash that it took me almost the entire trip to get used to.
This week, I’m writing from the newly found comfort in my latest temporary space- a short-term rental in San Diego. Legs neatly folded underneath my laptop, supported by the dusty beige Ikea sofa the rental company provided as part of the space’s leasing agreement. After a few failed attempts, I’ve finally mastered making coffee in the no-frills machine (even if it means brewing way more than I usually drink and sipping it down anyway).
Living in the “No More, Not Yet”
I’m in that uncomfortable, yet all-too-familiar space: the “no more, but not yet.” My household goods won’t arrive from Japan for another month, and my husband and I are still uncertain whether we will have a house on base or will need to look for a home elsewhere. Living out of a suitcase, cooking with the bare minimum of utensils, sleeping in a bed that isn’t my own for…honestly? Who knows how long?
After doing the whole milspouse thing for roughly 18 years, this space is nothing new. However, the way I’m approaching it definitely is.
Learning to Stay Present
This time of uncertainty used to fill me with dread. As a trauma survivor, the unknowing and the utter lack of control were enough to send me spiraling with anxiety—down the rabbit holes of self-shame and criticism I’ve always used to cope.
I felt frozen in my intellectual and sometimes physical body, believing that my own life and dreams were on hold. The eldest daughter and people-pleaser in me couldn’t be comfortable sitting in my own presence and cultivating my own joy through the things that made me feel alive until everything around me was “sorted out” or “fixed.” I always came last, believing I couldn’t pursue my own desires or establish my own routine until the big things were handled first…even if those big things were entirely beyond my control.
While the last few years of my life have been some of the most painful growth spurts I’ve ever felt, I’m also incredibly grateful for the gift that was waiting on the other side: I no longer see my own dreams and visions as something to be considered as an afterthought, and I know that I can move in alignment with my higher self no matter what is going on around me.
Maybe You Know This Feeling, Too?
Maybe you also know what it feels like to put your own needs and passions on hold until everything else feels “settled.” Maybe you’ve waited until the chaos quieted down before giving yourself permission to create, to rest, to dream, to breathe.
If so, here’s what’s helped me shift into a different space over the years:
✨ Redefine waiting. Instead of seeing this “in-between” as wasted time, treat it as sacred space to reconnect with yourself. It’s ironic that we pause our dreams and creative flow when our life feels out of balance, because it’s often where the most authentic, beautiful expressions emerge from.
✨ Anchor in what’s available now. Even if it’s just one small comfort item, let it remind you that you’re safe in the present moment. Create a space that feels “homey” and let your heart fall into ease. What really helps me is to get into a set routine, even if it’s only temporary. Committing to a new workout program, dialing in my nutrition, waking up around the same time each day, and setting my morning intentions… these practices help me tap into that deeper feeling of groundedness and safety.
✨ Let small practices matter. And on that note, adding a candle, a prayer, a journal entry, a walk- tiny rituals can anchor you more than waiting for the “perfect moment.”
✨ Don’t wait for permission. Your needs and (gasp!) even your wants are incredibly important to not only your well-being, but the well-being of those around you. If you know that writing, sewing, painting, coloring, gardening, or creating are the keys to helping you feel happier and whole, it’s time to stop treating them like the spare car key you’re constantly losing and forgetting about and using them as the master key code that unlocks everything else good around you.
✨ Remember: you are not on hold. Your life, your voice, and your creativity don’t need everything around you to be fixed first. And let’s be honest…when is everything in life actually “in balance”? Is there ever really a “right time”? It’s always the right time to commit to more of what sets your soul on fire.
Despite my latest new surroundings, I have my most comforting, anchoring, emotional support items surrounding me:
My favorite pillow I left in San Diego nearly a year ago that I was finally reunited with.
A coffee mug I chose specifically to represent this time in my life that I whisper my prayers into each morning.
My Kindle holding not all, but many, of the books I’ve leaned on for spiritual nurturing and support over the years.
My favorite scented candle burning in sync with Spirit, reminding me that my very being and presence in my own body is the only altar and grounding space of “home” I ever really need.
True home is where the soul’s most longing expression of creativity is met and honored in the physical realm, and we have the power to summon that energy anywhere, anytime, any place.
These last few weeks have been a mix of change, grief, growth, and little moments of comfort that reminded me I don’t have to wait for life to “settle down” before I can feel grounded. Learning to anchor into small rituals, trust my own timing, and honor my sensitivity has carried me through the uncertainty—and I hope in sharing this, it reminds you that you can do the same. You don’t have to put your dreams, your joy, or your voice on hold until everything around you feels perfect.
Thank you for spending this time with me. If this reflection resonated, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments—or share this with someone who might need the reminder, too. And if you’d like to keep journeying with me through these seasons of growth, intuition, and healing, you can support my work by subscribing. Your presence here truly means the world.
All my love,
Lauren
The liminal space.