Standing at the Edge of “What’s Next”

This past weekend, we celebrated my father-in-law’s 80th birthday—Mother’s Day was right on its heels. It was one of those sweet, full-circle weekends filled with family, laughter, memories, and my guacamole (a fan favorite, I’m told).

But alongside the celebration came something quieter. As we toasted to 80 years and remembered those no longer with us, I was struck—again—by how random and fragile life can be. A phone call, a text, an unexpected moment… things can shift in an instant.

And I found myself reflecting (maybe overdoing it a little, as I do) on what I’m doing with my own time—and what I’m not.

For a while now, I’ve been thinking about my next big life pivot. Not in the dramatic, “quit everything and move to Bali” kind of way—but in a steady, intentional shift toward something that feels more like me. Coaching. AI consulting. Creative projects I’ve been putting off for years. I picture a slower pace, more flexibility, and more alignment with what matters to me now.

I’ve sketched out a roadmap for myself. There are no deadlines—just milestones I’d like to reach. And while technically, I could step fully into this solopreneur chapter sooner... I haven’t.

So what’s holding me back?

Part of it is practical—there’s a sense of stability and financial security that comes with staying where I am, at least for now. Walking away from that isn't a decision I take lightly. I’ve still got meaningful work and great colleagues in my current role. I want to honor that and leave well when the time does come.

But there’s also fear. Not the dramatic kind—more like a quiet hesitation. After 30+ years in a consistent career path, even exciting change can feel destabilizing. What if I’m not ready? What if it’s too soon? What if I give up something steady for something uncertain?

And yet… I can’t help but wonder what my life might look like a year from now if I did start giving more of my energy to the next chapter I keep dreaming about.

Lately, I’ve been thinking… if I were coaching someone else through this exact situation, I’d gently encourage them to get their thoughts out of their head and onto paper. Maybe sketch out a vision for that slower-paced life they’re craving. Or name what matters most to them now—not ten years ago. I’ve got tools I use with clients all the time to help bring clarity to the fog. It might be time I turn some of those tools on myself.

That’s the space I’m sitting in. Not stuck exactly—just pausing at the edge of what’s next. And maybe that’s okay for now.