A personal reflection on career transition, uncertainty, and learning to notice what is quietly unfolding.
Dear Charli,
I have been struggling. This season of career transition has not been easy for me.
This is one of those moments where the economy, the workplace, and the modern job search are all changing so radically that much of the old advice no longer applies. The rules are not just being rewritten. The whole game is changing, and we do not yet know what it is becoming.
It is impossible to predict what may happen next.
It is not just unsettling.
It is bewildering.
I am learning, in real time, how to navigate uncertainty.
I fall back on the old adage that has served me throughout my life: identify what you can control and focus first on that, then on what you can influence. Let the rest go.
Another adage: do not play the “coulda woulda shoulda” game, or you will drive yourself crazy. You cannot rewrite the past. You can only learn from it and move forward.
My mental health has depended on this mindset more than once.
When your brothers were little, and we were grappling with the Autism diagnosis and treatment plans and medical insurance, all while trying to love and raise two very different little boys and maintain my job as the breadwinner, I found myself in a community of other parents who were also searching for answers.
So many people spent so much time second guessing themselves. There were too many voices, too many contradictions, too much misinformation, and too many people offering certainty where none existed.
The truth was, we had so few answers.
It was like trying to find your way in the dark with no map.
Many got lost. Some got stuck in denial. Many were depressed. I dipped in and out of depression myself.
But many also persevered.
I persevered.
I developed resilience and figured out my own way through that life transition.
That is what you have to do in times of uncertainty. Figure out your own way. Because no one else can live your life for you. No one else will ever have your exact experience. You can listen and learn and research and gather advice, but ultimately, you are the one who must decide what path to follow.
So I created a standard for myself.
When considering a therapy, a treatment, or a decision, I would ask myself one question:
Twenty years from now, when we may finally understand what we do not understand today, will I be able to sleep at night knowing I did the best I could with the information and resources I had at the time?
If the answer was yes, I could let go of the rest.
Not completely.
But enough.
Navigating a Career Transition Without Clear Answers
This season of career transition has asked me to live with uncertainty in a way I never have before. When your professional identity shifts, it is not just your work that changes. It is how you see yourself, how you understand your place in the world, and how you begin to imagine what comes next.
Today, as I navigate this period of unemployment and career uncertainty, I find myself in a similar place as when we were navigating how to raise a child with Autism.
I am watching. Researching. Learning. Trying to understand what the future of work looks like and where I fit within it.
I keep looking for signs.
For words that will tell me the right move.
For reassurance that everything will be okay.
Someday.
And some days, I am discouraged because I am not finding the words.
Then a few days ago, I came across this quote:
“God spoke today in flowers, and I, who was waiting on words, almost missed the conversation.”
I paused and said, “Oh my God,” out loud.
Then I walked outside.
I stood at the front door and looked at my garden.
Green stems were pushing up through the soil. Tiny blooms had begun to open.
Grape hyacinths.
One of my favorite flowers.
They had arrived, quietly, without announcement.
I had been waiting for words.
Life was speaking in flowers.
In that moment, I realized my attention had been fixed on finding answers in logical places. Emails. Phone calls. Job postings. Articles about the changing job market.
I wanted clarity.
I wanted direction.
I wanted certainty.
But that quote reminded me that meaning does not always arrive in structured plans or clearly articulated next steps.
Sometimes it arrives quietly.
Sometimes it arrives emotionally before it arrives logically.
Sometimes it arrives as a feeling.
I will continue to learn and research and apply and move forward.
But perhaps I also need to notice more.
To pay attention to my relationships.
To nature.
To my intuition.
To the parts of this life transition that cannot be measured or optimized.
I began to ask myself:
Am I only valuing what can be rationally explained?
Am I missing what can only be felt?
Am I truly present in this season of change, or am I simply enduring it while waiting for it to end?
Flowers do not explain themselves.
They simply bloom.
And in their blooming, they communicate something powerful.
Continuity.
Possibility.
Hope.
Finding Meaning in a Season of Career Uncertainty
Not everything important in life arrives as a job offer.
Not everything meaningful arrives as a five year plan.
Some of the most important things arrive quietly.
As a conversation.
As an idea.
As a moment of peace.
As the realization that even in uncertainty, your life is still unfolding.
And maybe, in this season of career transition and waiting, the most important thing I can do is pay attention.
So I do not miss the conversation.
And Charli, if you ever find yourself waiting for answers that do not come, step outside and look for the flowers. Life may already be speaking to you.
Love,
Mom
