There is a particular kind of tension that lives in the space between endings and beginnings.
You know the one. That moment when you’ve decided something needs to change but the new thing hasn’t fully arrived yet. When you’re no longer who you were but not yet fully who you’re becoming. When the old feels familiar enough to pull you back and the new feels uncertain enough to make you hesitate.
That tension is real. And it can be incredibly disorienting.
Because tension doesn’t just feel uncomfortable — it speaks. It tells you things. And not everything it says is true. Sometimes it disguises fear as wisdom. Sometimes it makes the familiar feel safer than it actually is, and the unknown feel more dangerous than it needs to be. And when you’re already in a tender, in-between place, that kind of misguided information can make a hard decision feel nearly impossible.
So when I find myself standing in that space, I’ve learned to stop trying to think my way through it.
Instead, I reach for my survival tools.
I do the things that bring me joy. I take long, slow, intentional breaths. I take care of my body. I get outside. I paint. I let myself move and feel and come back into the present moment instead of spinning in the uncertainty of what’s next.
And then, from that more grounded place, I ask my intuition one question:
Where do I see the most expansion?
Not the most comfort. Not the least risk. Not the path that requires the least from me. But the direction that opens something. The choice that makes me feel more alive, more myself, more capable of becoming who I’m here to be.
And when I ask that question honestly, things get clearer. The noise settles. The tension doesn’t disappear entirely, but it stops feeling like a warning and starts feeling like evidence that something real is happening.
Because tension at a threshold isn’t always a sign to stop.
Sometimes it’s a sign that the destination is worth the walk.
I’ll be honest — this particular stretch of the journey can feel heavy. The in-between is not a glamorous place to be. It requires patience when you want a resolution. It requires trust when you can’t yet see the outcome. It requires continuing to take steps when part of you wants to sit down and wait for certainty that may never fully come.
But I’m learning to let what makes me feel alive be my guide instead of waiting for the fear to quiet down first.
Because the fear doesn’t always quiet down before the breakthrough, sometimes it’s loudest right before something shifts. And the people who make it through are not the ones who felt no fear — they’re the ones who kept walking anyway, kept breathing, kept returning to the things that reminded them why they started.
So if you’re in that tension right now, I want you to hear this.
You’re not lost. You’re in the threshold. And the fact that you’re still here, still moving, still asking yourself what expansion looks like — that is courage, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
Keep taking the steps. Keep finding yourself in the tension. Keep letting what makes you feel alive be the thing that guides you forward.
30 Seconds With Beth
Take a slow breath and let yourself arrive fully in this moment.
If you’re standing between something ending and something new, ask yourself gently:
Where do I feel the most expansion when I imagine moving forward?
Not the safest choice. Not the easiest one. The one that makes something in you lean forward.
Let that be your compass.
The tension you feel isn’t a stop sign. It might just be proof that you’re standing at the edge of something worth crossing into.
About The Author
Beth Inglish is an artist, leader, and transformational speaker who creates spaces where people feel seen, supported, and invited to grow. Through her abstract paintings and keynote experiences, she helps people reconnect to themselves, regulate their nervous systems, and move forward with clarity and confidence. Her work blends creativity, emotional intelligence, and storytelling to create meaningful moments of reflection and change. Whether on stage or in the studio, Beth focuses on helping people feel grounded, aware, and empowered in their lives. Visit her online gallery to explore her work and learn more about the stories behind each piece.
