Transitions end in their own time

We are always in transition. As I’ve written about before, not knowing the path IS probably the path. But after 18 months of uncertainty about housing and work, an 18 month transition period where we were not sure where some of the major pieces in our life would land, the uncertainty (about these things at least) came to an end. And interestingly, the period of transition ended up being bookended by the worst illnesses I’ve ever experienced.

In February 2024 my world was upended when the The Make it Better Project collapsed and a few days later I flatlined in an ambulance after a severe reaction to morphine. I had two weeks with nothing but my own thoughts and a recovering body. What followed was a sabbatical of sorts which included five months in our caravan and the design of a new vocational contribution called Vocate.

As 2025 started, we had begun to envisage another shift; a radical simplification of our living which included selling our house and liquidating some funds that would allow me to do exclusively Vocate work. Or so we thought …

In early July 2025 I developed a headache that didn’t go away. It took a week to diagnose properly as shingles and for a couple of days I did nothing other than sleep as my body did it’s best to exhume the virus.

Weirdly, in both these times, February 2024 and July 2025, probably the most unwell I’ve ever been, my thinking was clear and determined. During these times of extreme illness I plotted clear paths of integrity for my outer world realities. (work, life, relationships etc)

The story that’s harder to tell about what has happened in those 18 months, is the forays into soulwork. I’m no stranger to inner development work, but during the last 18 months, and the last nine in particular, I have explored some unfamiliar, deeper inner-world questions.

Familiar developmental territory for me has been psychological and spiritual. The pathways to psychological maturity involve self awareness discoveries, emotional intelligence cultivation and deep wrestlings with our unconscious motivations and habits, installed in our psyches from our early years. It is marked by glimpses of trauma and successes, rejection and love. It’s not for the faint hearted and needs guidance from those who know how to map the territory so we can navigate it safely.

Then there is the call to spiritual awareness and maturity, the invitation that we feel from nature and others to connect intentionally and meaningfully with a story bigger than ourselves, much bigger. The Kosmos beckons us and as we take steps to connect we find our sense of identity becomes intertwined with others and the natural environment in which we live. The big spiritual stories take various forms, but all invite us upward and outward, to see ourselves as part of a magnificent whole. In this journey we also need support and guidance, and it typically comes from spiritual guides who, in my experience we typically find in community and ‘tribal’ gatherings.

These two developmental pathways have well worn tracks in my life. But the forays into soulwork over the last nine months have asked more of me than I thought I had to give. I have dipped my toes in the turbulent waters of radical integrity, an exploration of the assumptions I hold about who I am in the world. It is a journey that invites me not to develop, but to sever, to relinquish, to let go.

I feel like my inner-world work to become a better person has been worthwhile and deeply satisfying and my lifelong spiritual journey has helped me feel connected and part of something bigger. But the implicit and unconscious bargain I’ve made with myself is that ‘yes’ I want to be healed and whole, and ‘yes’ I’m prepared to go some distance, but I’m not sure I’ve been willing to question the fundamental assumptions upon which my life has been built both personally and socially. I’ve too often suppressed the still small voice that points fleetingly to my own hypocrisy. Facing this down and leaving no stone unturned is the soul-work that I’ve dipped a toe into.

The risks are felt deep in my gut, as everything goes on the table, including my sense of identity, and everything that has contributed to its formation. Why bother embarking on a journey where the process promises pain and uncertainty? Because having tasted just a morsel of radical integrity, the prospect of normalising that freedom and power is compelling. I can’t unsee it.

The point in the context of this post is to record that the transition has not simply been about work and housing. I am emerging with different lenses on my life and the world. These come with the seeds of inner-world competencies that I wasn’t even aware I didn’t have. They are helping me be present, to notice anxiety and fear in my soul that I have previously dismissed. There are seeds of radical honesty with no doors left unopened. I have alluded to this in earlier posts. It has been both frightening and liberating.

Back to early July and the punctuation of an 18 month hiatus.

We decided to sell our little house 12 months ago. Not because we wanted to upgrade, on the contrary, we loved our place. Before we bought it, I immersed myself in The Monocle Guide to Cosy Homes, essentially a blueprint for a good home. We’ve been living in it for more than eight years now and I’m still realising design features that enhance our living. It’s an awesome home. Not only do we love it, our family does too.

While I was lying upstairs, incapacitated physically from shingles, the sounds of family life and grandkids’ laughter and grumps wafted up the stairs. And when they had gone and I was at home quietly again, I fell back in love with our house’s capacity to bring people together in ways that were ‘just right’. I pulled the Monocle Guide off the shelf again. As I lay resting in the winter sunny spots, I thought about the adjustments and cosmetic improvements we had been putting off for 12 months. I wandered slowly into each room and savoured it, and recommitted to life in it. It was like moving in again for the first time. Sometimes we have to let things go before they are gifted back.

So what happened to the rationale for moving and downsizing?

In previous posts, if you’ve been following, you’ll know that essentialism has been an important consideration. No question that a smaller space forces a material simplicity that bigger spaces don’t. But we also know that essentialism in a context that doesn’t require it, is a harder won gain. Empty cupboards and sparse wardrobes in a bigger home is a more challenging achievement than full ones in a tiny home.

But on the substantial matter of work …

As I lay in my bed, unable to do anything other than rest, the work/house equation came down to this. Either I do only Vocate work (no consulting) and come home to a house of lesser quality, without the design features and with limited extended family capacity, OR I embrace the maintenance of some consulting work and know I’ll be coming home to arguably the best house we’ll ever get a chance to live in.

And there was an integrity booster in the equation too: My Vocate offerings support organisational leaders to do their work more effectively. But I realised that if I am divorced from the ordinary messiness of business life (by no longer taking on consulting gigs) my capacity to identify with those I am purporting to help is diminished.

During my sabbatical musings of 2024, I articulated my professional purpose as cultivating ‘oases of connection’. The leadership development environments I host are examples of these oases, and I believe spaces like them are not only life-giving for us now, but will be increasingly so as society unravels around us. However, I had become intoxicated by the idea of spending all my time in an oasis. Facilitating them in my work, living in one, having a friendship circle that feels like an oasis, and there is no doubt our seaside village is an extraordinary oasis. An oasis however, is a place of regeneration in the middle of deserts. Its power is in its contribution ‘in context’. Spending every waking hour in an oasis is a fantasy, akin to the other fantasies promoted by contemporary privilege; comfort, convenience, security etc.

So, when it comes to work, I have been able to flip a reframing switch that has moved my engagement with consulting projects from resentful to grateful.

I don’t know if any of this will make sense to you, and I apologise if you get lost in the story. But my commitment with this substack was to record publically what would typically sit only in my personal journal. This pivot out of transitional hiatus into a regenerated path has been very big. But as per above, its significance is veiled behind the outer world decisions about home and work. We emerge not simply with a renewed belonging in our home and in my vocational contribution, but with glimpses of reality from souls that are being renewed.