Are You Feeling The Threshold?

The Space Between Action And Stillness Should Be Savoured.

When you're standing still, not quite sure where to go or what to do...you're in a threshold.

Do you feel frozen, or are you sensing change? You are not wrong. There is newness looming. Maybe you are already doing something new, but your mind has not caught up yet. Or your mind is elsewhere, and your body is asking to align.

You are in a threshold.

It’s hesitant. A time for things to land, for new ideas to arrive, and for next steps to reveal themselves.

The in-between. Staying and leaving. Keeping things as they are or dismantling what no longer fits. Between what was working and what might work next.

Do any of these chime?

• Booking a one-way ticket, then sitting with it for days before pressing confirm.

• Handing in your notice, but not yet stepping into the next chapter.

• A relationship has shifted, but the language for it has not yet arrived.

• The work still pays the bills, yet something inside you knows it is no longer the full story.

• Walking through a familiar neighbourhood and suddenly seeing it differently.

• Waking up with new energy while still carrying old habits.

You get the picture.

Thresholds appear when our external life and internal life briefly fall out of sync. They are uncomfortable because they remove certainty without offering immediate replacement. Yet they are also deeply fertile. This is where our intuition sharpens, creativity stirs, and our truth becomes harder to ignore.

We often label this as confusion, feeling off-kilter, or, at worst, failure. But in truth, it’s a wise transition. A recalibration and a holding pattern that exists to protect what is forming next.

Like a snowflake suspended inside a cloud. The conditions are gathering. Temperature. Pressure. Moisture. Timing. Nothing looks finished yet. Nothing can be rushed. But molecule by molecule, something precise is taking shape, unseen. If shaken too early, the structure collapses. If given time, form arrives naturally.

Thresholds work in exactly the same way.

They are precise environments, designed to allow the next version of us, our work, or our life,

to crystallise without distortion.

Thresholds Are Preparation.

I wrote about this a year ago. We are in the Year of the Snake, and the Fire Horse is approaching in February. We are in a collective threshold. The Snake is about shedding skin, release, and deep internal recalibration. It doesn’t rush. It asks for patience, discernment, and honesty.

The Fire Horse brings movement, visibility, momentum, and decisive action. We are not there yet - right now, we are still shedding. Still loosening identities, structures, habits, and beliefs that cannot come with us. That sense of suspension that many people are feeling is not personal failure. It is timing.

Our collective nervous system is preparing for a different pace. And we have the choice to

do this blindly, or consciously.

Before February…

• Do not force big decisions. Let them mature. Clarity will come naturally once the skin has fully shed.

• Reduce the noise. Fewer opinions, inputs and obligations make space for listening.

• Notice our energy leaks. People, projects, patterns that drain rather than nourish are showing themselves clearly now.

• Tend to the body first. Sleep, walking, nourishment, breath. The body is doing more work than the mind realises.

• Complete those loose ends. Finish, close, clear. Even completing the small stuff is important.

• Write things down without editing. Truth surfaces faster when it is not filtered.

• Practise restraint. Not everything that excites you now needs action RIGHT NOW. Some ideas are still forming. Timing is everything.

• Stay present. The signal you are waiting for will no doubt be quieter than you expect, but it will be unmistakable when it arrives. Promise!

Let’s Look at This Differently

Recently, I have become more aware of my own threshold states.

Travel is a good example, and I travel often. Last weekend, I walked around Bermondsey in London while thinking about my return to Gozo. Both places hold very different flows for me. Wanting both, or oscillating between them, does not mean I am fragmented. It means I am responding honestly to different parts of myself.

In that moment, I could feel one foot in each place. My body was in London, but my energy felt as though it was already reaching toward Gozo.

On the surface, the task was simple: work out when to book the flight. But instead of forcing a decision, I allowed myself to inhabit the whole feeling. I stayed present with it.

I let the sensations move through me. Appreciation. Love. Enjoyment. I breathed in the smell of coffee roasting from the café next door. I walked. I listened. I gave myself enough space to hear what my body already knew.

A pause within a threshold moment gives us room to notice what genuinely feels right, rather than what looks right on paper. Because of that, the next step does not feel like a mega jump. It feels like a fluid continuation.

Thresholds are where clarity gathers strength. Where we listen more carefully. Where we allow ourselves to feel into what supports our nervous system, our creativity, our sense of aliveness.

It comes from presence. From letting the body remember what it enjoys.

When The Answers Arrive

In a threshold, we are no longer fully in the old place, but not yet rooted in the new one. The nervous system feels it first. Restlessness. A sense of being unanchored. Sometimes jittery.

Modern life urges us to choose now. Decide quickly. Optimise the move. Make the best out of it…blah blah blah…BUT…

Thresholds ask for something else entirely. Slowness. Spaciousness. Quiet attention.

Instead of asking, What should I do? try asking, Who am I becoming as I stand here?

If we jump too early, something essential is left behind. If we cling too long, stagnation sets in. We have to;

• Notice what is loosening.

• Notice what is calling.

• Resist the urge to force a conclusion.

Look at it like a dimly lit doorway teaching us how to listen. This valid phase of becoming is ours. And should not be missed.

And then… we just know.