When You’re No Longer Who You Were, But Not Yet Who You’re Becoming

There’s a particular kind of unease that doesn’t come from chaos or crisis.

It comes from change that hasn’t quite found its shape yet.

You might feel it as restlessness without urgency.
A quiet discomfort that doesn’t respond to motivation or mindset shifts.
A sense that something is shifting, but not breaking.

You’re no longer who you were.
But you’re not yet who you’re becoming either.

And that space in between can feel… unfamiliar.

Not dramatic.
Not catastrophic.
Just quietly disorienting.

You may notice that the things that once drove you no longer move you in the same way.
Old rhythms feel too loud.
Old identities feel too tight.
Yet the new hasn’t arrived with clarity or certainty.

There’s often a longing here — not for more stimulation, but for simplicity.
Not for answers, but for space.
Not for transformation, but for stillness.

And because we live in a culture that teaches us to move quickly, to fix discomfort, and to define ourselves through action… this space can feel deeply uncomfortable.

We’re taught that uncertainty means something is wrong.
That pausing means falling behind.
That not knowing means we’ve failed to plan properly.

But what if this space isn’t a problem to solve?

What if it’s something to listen to?

This in-between phase isn’t stagnation.
It’s not weakness.
It’s not a lack of ambition.

It’s integration.
It’s recalibration.
It’s the quiet work of rearranging what matters, what fits, and what no longer belongs.

Something is being softened.
Something is being released.
Something is being quietly rewritten.

And that doesn’t happen in noise.

It happens in presence.
In stillness.
In moments that feel like exhale rather than effort.

What often helps here is not doing more — but  allowing less.

Less noise.
Less explaining.
Less forcing clarity before it’s ready.

And more listening inward.
More simple rituals.
More gentle anchoring in the body and senses.
More permission to not yet know what comes next.

Some spaces are created specifically for moments like this — not to rush you toward answers, but to hold you while your clarity forms.

Beneath the Noise exists for seasons when life feels loud but your inner world is asking for something quieter… not direction, but orientation.

Not instruction — but presence.

If you find yourself here — not lost, not broken, but simply in between — know this:

It's not about being behind.
It's not about being late.
It's not about failing to move forward.

You’re standing in a meaningful pause.
And something true is forming there.

Quietly.
Softly.
In its own time.

- Anastasia 

(If this speaks to where you are, Beneath the Noise is a gentle clarity session I offer for moments like these.)

This is the first in a short series exploring the quiet thresholds we pass through in life — the spaces between what was and what’s next, where clarity doesn’t come from rushing forward, but from listening more deeply.