When Life Comes in Phases: Learning to Move Between Inspiration, Processing, and Action

Shot from my phone: Somewhere between Bergen and Oslo (Norway)

In March 2026, I was at a point where I hadn’t written anything new for 2 months.

Not because I had nothing to say. In fact, quite the opposite.

There was too much happening: new people, new experiences, new energy entering my life. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, the writing quietly paused.

Back in January, I was sitting withmy theme for 2026:“I am rooted, but I flow.”

I had been reflecting on what it would mean to move through this year with that spirit- not exploring in isolation, but whileengaging with the communities around me.

When life became full

As a result, January became surprisingly full.

I hosted a get-together after nearly eight years, joined an improv workshop (be ready to hear more reflections on life and leadership from these sessions in upcoming newsletters), and that same gathering also led to a few of us signing up to learn Urdu from my sister-in-law.

As I met new people and stepped into different ways of learning and being, I found myself wide-eyed with awe at how much there was to explore. At the same time, I also felt stretched… though not in a way that made me want to give anything up.

I kept feeling inspired by these experiences and constantly noted things I wanted to share with you. But I couldn’t quite get myself to sit down and write.

Partly because these activities and new connections took more time, and the rest of my time went into resting (which you need when you suddenly make yourself super busy).

Partly because the energy of inspiration felt dynamic and restless, and didn’t allow me to sit still long enough to write.

For two weeks in January, I judged myself for abandoning writing, especially since I love it so much. By the third week, inertia kicked in. It started to feel like a big effort to sit down and begin.

And then February arrived with our improv show finale, a cousin’s wedding and a trip to Norway to witness the Northern Lights. (An unexpected highlight from that trip was taking cold plunges in the Arctic Ocean when the air temperature was –11°C.)

The moment of questioning

March then brought with it a small wave of panic about what I’m doing with my life, questioning some of my choices and wondering how things will turn out.

It was triggered partly by personal reflections and partly by self-judgment about not putting as much effort into certain things as I thought I should have.

What’s happening in the world probably had something to do with it too.

Around that time, a different way of looking at things occurred to me.

Understanding the rhythm

I realised that energy in our lives moves a lot like water. Different parts of river can be going through three hydrological processes:

At times, gathering water -fed by rain, tributaries, and melting snow.There is movement, expansion, and incoming energy.

At other times, settling and deepening -the water slows down, sediment settles, and the riverbed quietly reshapes itself.

And then there are moments when the river surges forward -carrying that accumulated energy downstream.

Looking back at the last couple of months, I realised I had been in a phase of gathering.

New people, new experiences, improv sessions, running, learning Urdu, travel: there had been a lot of inflow. Maybe even more than I realised at the time.

And when a river receives that much inflow, the current can become restless before it finds its rhythm again.

I also began noticing how my life often moves through phases where one aspect takes precedence over others: inspiration, processing, or execution.

Sometimes these phases last days, often shaped by emotions or even the menstrual cycle.

Sometimes they last weeks. Some people notice similar shifts with lunar cycles.

And sometimes they stretch across months, depending on what’s happening in life or around us.

Realising this helped me feel more at ease about those two months.

Had I tried to tightly control this phase, perhaps I would have been more “productive.” But inspiration and life experiences don’t always arrive on a schedule.

And so I’m glad I allowed myself to go with the flow.

For quite some time before this, I had been very rooted (read: disciplined) and used to a certain stability.

But recently, spending every weekend in improv, taking risks and channeling my energy there made me feel alive, yet also a little destabilised.

The image that comes to mind is water held behind floodgates.

For a long time, the energy had been contained and directed. And once the gates opened, the water rushed out.

And rightly so.

It needed some time to find its own rhythm again.

So I chose to allow myself the grace to find my footing as I learned to flow.

Maybe I moved from one extreme (rooted) to another, and I’m simply beginning to find my balance. Or maybe the riverbed itself will shift a little as I move through this process.

Until then, I trust the current will eventually settle into its own rhythm again.

Maybe this phase I’m in right now is simply the river finding its rhythm again.

An invitation for you

If you find yourself judging yourself for something, pause and ask:

What else changed?

Maybe the “struggle” you’re noticing is simply a by-product of something new emerging, and what you’re experiencing is just the adjustment.

You might reflect on:

• What might help you ease into that adjustment?

• Where might it help to move with more moderation, rather than opening the floodgates all at once?

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