What the In-Between Teaches Us
- 5 days ago
- 6 min read

Here I am, in the middle of the biggest move of my life.
Everything is packed. My apartment is mostly empty. I’ve been giving things away, selling what I can, and deciding (sometimes surprisingly) what really matters. My body knows I’m leaving, but I haven’t left yet. It’s that strange, floating space between what was and what will be, and it’s stirring up more than I expected.
Transitions are funny like that. We often think of them as fast: a decision, a departure, a new beginning. But the truth is, transitions are slow. They often begin internally months or even years before the external shift. And while we may feel ready, the body doesn’t always know the difference between fear and forward motion.
But over time, as we tune more deeply into our intuition, the lines between “stay and observe” and “shift and transform” start to clarify. Sometimes painfully, sometimes softly. Often, in both ways.
The Nervous System in Transition
My nervous system has been loud lately.
Even positive, joyful change can feel very destabilizing. Sleep gets disrupted. Muscles tighten. Old fears bubble up. Old stories surface, and some unravel right before your eyes. Some need help unraveling because you realize how ‘done’ with them you are.
The breath shortens, or quickens, or just loses its normal rhythm.
Sometimes there’s gripping. Physically, in the joints and muscles and cells. Mentally, in the self concepts, stories and plans. And also energetically, in that non visible lifeforce connecting the most authentic YOU to everything and everyone.
And sometimes, at the same time, there’s a surprising sense of softening, opening, and surrendering into the unknown with deep trust and zero expectation.
It’s unpredictable and is definitely not part of your usual routine. And that’s the point. The nervous system can’t reorganize when you’re stuck in a loop. These jolts, this discomfort, this disruption are all part of the nervous system’s invitation to reset the pattern. To rewrite the story that’s propelling us.

Liminal Space = Sacred Space
This liminal space between one era of my life that’s already been written and played out, and a new one that has yet to fully form outside of my heart and mind, reminds me of what so many of my clients go through during their own periods of change: career shifts, grief, healing, burnout, and personal reinvention.
The body holds all of it and gives us a chance to process it through breath, movement, and realignment. It’s a dance between the life we’re living now and the future one we’re already rehearsing in our minds. That imagined life, that new rhythm, is already being etched into your neural architecture.
This is where the in-between becomes sacred.
If we can slow down, just a little, we begin to hear what the body is asking for. And if we listen closely, it often whispers things like:
Make space.
Or
Wait and listen.
Or
Just leap, it’s time!
During this transition I’ve been holding firm boundaries to protect my energy, which in NYC is an art form in and of itself. I’ve been taking a lot of reflective time in meditation, for journaling, and using self care tools like somatic release and Yoga Nidra (conscious sleep), hot baths or receiving therapeutic bodywork to both ground myself as well as create general spaciousness in my mind so I can track my intuition’s gentle nudges.
Burnout vs. Reset
It’s hard to rest when your body is wired for vigilance. After 21 years of wiring to the NYC energy, I know this internal choreography well. For so long I’ve lived in a kind of “functional survival mode.” Like many caregivers, therapists, and wellness professionals, I knew how to support others, but often found myself over-performing through depletion (especially in the early years).
But there’s a difference between taking a break and truly resetting. And we can't reset while clinging to what’s no longer aligned. This giant life shift is teaching me what deep nervous system reset can actually look like: not just rest, but creation of new, improved patterns. And not just downtime, but a chance to reclaim my pace and my peace.
This is what I want to offer others, too.
At the same time I’ve been managing logistics and emotional remnants, I’ve had to say no to several things lately that I would have said yes to in the past. I’ve trusted my intuition to guide me with contracts, partnerships, and offers that looked “good on paper” but didn’t feel right in my gut.
And it’s hard. Especially when you’re navigating all the unknowns. Especially when you’re used to over-accommodating or over-proving.
But I’m remembering that what I’m building next requires space, integrity, and discernment. It requires me to honor the version of myself I’m becoming, not the one who made it work when she was just hustling and surviving.
And then, of course, there’s the letting go...
Letting Go with Love
Leaving New York isn’t easy. There is no place like it and it will always have a special place in my heart. There’s grief, even as there’s excitement. There are people, places, and parts of my identity I’ve loved deeply.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been sorting through so much. Deciding what to sell, what to give away, what to take with me. And it’s been surprising. The things I thought I’d never part with? Some were unexpectedly easy to release. Other objects, simple, ordinary ones, caught me off guard with the emotion they carried. This process has made me pause again and again to ask: What actually matters to me now? What still feels meaningful?
But it hasn’t only been about belongings. I’ve also been sorting through the versions of myself that lived through this era. The identities I wore, the beliefs I held, the ways I showed up in the world. Some of those versions helped me survive. Others helped me grow. But not all of them need to come with me. 🙏🏻
Letting go isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s quiet and strange. Sometimes it feels like a little heartbreak and a little relief, all at once.
For me, this move isn’t just a change of location. It’s a kind of living ceremony. An expression of the very work I teach: presence, awareness, and release. And the practices I come back to again and again — Yoga Nidra, meditation, breathwork, hatha yoga, somatic healing — help me experience the grief and the gratitude at the same time, without needing to rush through either.
As I move through this change, physically, emotionally, professionally, I’m reminded daily that self-care isn’t just for crisis recovery. It’s for the quiet, tender moments when we’re trying to hold it all together and let go at the same time.

This Summer, I’ll be opening the doors to our new Self Care Community.
It’s not just about guided rest (though there will be that).
It’s about creating a space for real, sustainable nourishment, where we don’t have to wait until we’re falling apart to ask for support.
We'll practice listening. Resetting. Remembering.
We'll begin to trust that we’re allowed to grow slowly and be deeply supported along the way.
If you’re in your own in-between right now, whether it’s a quiet inner nudge you can’t yet explain or the full-body ache of knowing something has to change...
Or you’re beginning to question the old story or already stepping into the mud on your way to something more meaningful...
I want you to know: you’re not alone.
You don’t have to have it all figured out.
You just have to keep listening.
This is exactly what we’ll be practicing inside the The Art of Self-Care Community:
Not perfection. Not performance. But the art of self-care as a long-term support system.
The kind that meets you where you are, and walks with you as you grow.
I'm excited to walk together, on new ground...
See you soon!
About Jessica Crow

Jessica is the author of The Power of Guided Meditation and founder of CNTRD Wellness. She’s a dedicated meditation mentor, yoga nidra trainer, and wellness educator with a passion for helping people and professionals connect to their inner wisdom and grow through mindfulness and somatic awareness.
Discover free meditations and virtual classes on Insight Timer ✨ Follow Jessica on Insight Timer
This was so well written and a fantastic soulful, hopeful, optimist and postive read! I feel so many of these same feelings. My transformation started last year. You are so brave and beautiful! I'm really excited for your journey! I can't wait to see it all unfold and would love to do a retreat with you next year! Light & Love Sista! You the greatest teacher!
Xo~Annie🩷👑🧚🏼♀️✨️
Ps~ So glad kitty's are with you!🐈⬛🐈🩷😍