You’re Not Lost. You’re Between Versions of Yourself.

Forget the five-year plan. Start with one day of deep presence.

“In all chaos there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order.”

—Carl Jung

Your simple guide to a slower life✨a 3-day journey

( Childhood home, by Mohammad Daymehr)

A dear friend of mine, Negin, has sent me this a few months ago. I wrote this post listening to it, so read it while you listen. 🌊🌌🌿

There comes a moment—often quiet, sometimes devastating—when you realize:

You’re no longer who you used to be.

But you’re not yet who you’re becoming.

It’s disorienting.

It’s tender.

And it’s sacred.

We call this the “in-between.”

You’re not broken. You’re just becoming someone you’ve never been before.

And that takes time.

Letting go of what once felt certain hurts.

Changing habits that once anchored you feels like betrayal.

And stepping into the unknown without a name for who you’re becoming is terrifying.

I’ve been there. Too many times.

I remember one winter—the pressure of exams, the cold both outside and inside my chest. I was burned out. And then came the shame for being burned out, like I had failed at being strong.

I wasn’t lazy or weak. I was shedding.

The path I was on no longer aligned. But I kept walking it out of habit, out of expectation, out of fear of disappointing the people I loved. Until my soul said: no more.

Depression came, and instead of fighting it, I learned to listen.

To pause.

To make space.

Because sometimes what we call weakness is the body’s way of making room for a wiser version of us to emerge.

Part I: The In-Between Is Sacred

The idea of self, an ego that drives most not if all of our desires to be accepted, powerful and alive is just a mask we wear.

Think of it as chasing a moving lamp, when you have the sun. Or trying to find a guide when the compass lives in your heart. Or choosing to rush in a wrong direction instead of moving steadily on your own path.

The in-between is not a mistake.

It’s a divine pause.

A sacred shedding between chapters of your life.

All that I believed about being successful, good, and worthy shaped my plans.

My family wanted the best for me. My society wanted me to fit in.

Eventually, I couldn’t tell whether my dreams were mine—or just echoes of approval.

“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.”

—Carl Jung

But to become someone new, you must first un-become who you were taught to be.

This is why you feel lost: not because you’re doing something wrong, but because you’re doing something brave. You’re standing between stories, shedding old identities.

The fog is part of the path.

I was scared to be left in the dark, alone, rejected, and forever lost.

But that didn’t happen.

I found a way to keep it together and survive that burnout, but the depression continued.

I started to practice how to respect myself, to be kind to myself.

And started saying no, because I knew if I want to build new things in my life, I have to make room for them.

That was the starting point of feeling the change deep down, my eyes were getting used to the darkness and I started seeing things, scary and beautiful. All a part of who I was, who I am.

Depression was a sign:

Hey! We have important inner work here, so would you mind leaving us alone for a while? We’ll be back when we’re ready.

That made me to say no, because back then I was too afraid to “not be a good person”, so my body and mind took the role and made me pause.

Questioning not only my beliefs, values and thoughts, but the career path I chose part intuitively and part for the sake of seeking approval (unconsciously!).

I wasn’t “wrong”, to be depressed or doubtful, my soul felt an energy in my life that wasn’t “aligned” with my authentic self, with nature and with my spirit. And that was an alarm: this is not what you were created for.

So what was? No answers.

Just signes and feelings and unlearnings that quietly showed up on my path, and I followed.

Part II: Why Big Plans Don’t Work Here

Big plans give us the illusion of control.

But in the “in-between,” clarity doesn’t come from thinking—it comes from being.

A five-year plan can’t predict a single soul shift.

And trying to plan your way out of transformation is like trying to schedule grief. Or love. Or birth.

“Man plans, and God laughs.”

—Proverb, echoed in Nahj al-Balāgha, Sermon 131: “How strange is man… he plans for tomorrow with no guarantee he will live till then.”

The hustle culture tells you to fill the silence with strategies.

But in the in-between, silence is the strategy.

Stillness is not stagnation—it’s compost for becoming.

You don’t need a map.

You need a compass.

And it’s already inside you.

Part III: A One-Day Practice to Re-Center

Don’t think five years ahead. Don’t even think five months. Start with one day.

Here’s a rhythm that’s helped me reconnect, rebuild trust with myself, and create space for the next version of me to emerge,

but remember that you don’t enter this space just for one time, so be ready for an adventure, something that’s yours.

Get inspired and you can copy or build your own version:

🌿 Morning: Calm the Mind, Let the Spirit Speak

• Pray. Whether you speak to God, to the universe, or to your own heart—start the day with a sacred connection.

• Touch the earth. Let your bare feet remind you: you’re here, now. You belong.

• Move your body. Stretch, dance, or do a few yoga poses to wake yourself up.

• Meditate. You’re always one breath away from calm. Train yourself to return to that peace—even in chaos.

☀️ During the Day: Move + Nourish

• Move every hour. A 10-minute walk. A few yoga poses. Some stretching. Tai chi. Your body knows what it needs.

• Drink water. Keep a water bottle within reach. Hydration is clarity.

• Avoid sugar & processed food. Don’t put your body on a rollercoaster of blood sugar spikes and crashes. Eat real, grounding food. Give your nervous system peace.

🌙 Evening: Wind Down

• Eat dinner early. Give your body time to rest.

• Make tea. A ritual of slowness and comfort.

• Turn off screens. Pick up a book. Let your mind slow down.

• Journal. Ask yourself: “Where did I feel most like myself today?”

• Sleep. Not just rest—healing. Go to bed according to your rhythm, not the world’s.

---

Final Reflection

“And it may be that you dislike something while it is good for you.”

—Qur’an, Surah Al-Baqarah (2:216)

You’re not behind.

You’re not failing.

You’re just becoming someone new—and that’s sacred work.

So here’s your invitation:

This week, what’s one rhythm you can hold—

even while your identity is unraveling?

Maybe it’s walking barefoot on the grass.

Maybe it’s saying no to what drains you.

Maybe it’s sitting in silence for five minutes a day.

Whatever it is—let it be yours.

Let it be honest.

Let it be enough.