Finding My Way Forward: A Personal and Professional Update

As I prepare to step into a new role, I’ve been reflecting on what the past few months have really asked of me. Navigating a significant personal loss while managing the realities of work, family life, and change has been one of the most demanding chapters of my life so far. Yet, despite the emotional weight, it has also offered moments of deep clarity. In many ways, grief has stripped things back to their essentials, revealing what truly supports me, and what no longer does.

What has kept me steady throughout this period has been a return to fundamentals: moving my body, eating well, reducing alcohol, lifting weights, stretching, reading, laughing, and intentionally noticing the small pockets of joy that appear throughout the day. These practices may seem simple, but their impact has been profound. They reinforce what we know from research on behavioural activation (Martell et al., 2010): that structure, routine, and movement help protect us from emotional overwhelm by reconnecting us with meaningful action.

Alongside this, meditation and journalling have become essential tools in helping me regulate my nervous system. They offer a space to slow down, step back, and separate emotion from thought, what cognitive therapists call decentering (Segal et al., 2013). This ability to step out of the swirl of feeling and observe what is happening internally has given me room to breathe, respond, and remain present not only with my sorrow, but also with the small signs of growth that have emerged alongside it.

I’ve also been reminded of the role of psychological flexibility, a concept central to Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (Hayes et al., 2012). Change—can be personal, professional, or both—asks us to adapt, to soften, and to stay open to what is unfolding. For me, that has meant honouring both the heaviness and the hope, allowing the difficult emotions to exist while still choosing actions that support my wellbeing and values.

Self-compassion has woven through this process too. It has meant letting go of the expectation to “bounce back” and instead recognising that transitions take time. Bridges’ Transition Model (2004) describes how every change begins with an ending, a letting go of what was familiar- before we find our way through the in-between space and into a new beginning. I have felt this deeply. And rather than rush through it, I have tried to move with it.

I share all of this because periods of change often invite us to recalibrate. They ask us to anchor the body, steady the mind, and pay attention to the tiny decisions we make every day. These habits haven’t removed the sadness; they were never meant to. But they have helped me stay grounded, connected, and human.

Going into this next chapter, my resilience comes not from avoiding grief, but from learning to live with it.

References:
Martell, C.R., Dimidjian, S. & Herman-Dunn, R. (2010) Behavioral Activation for Depression: A Clinician’s Guide. New York: Guilford Press.
Segal, Z.V., Williams, J.M.G. & Teasdale, J.D. (2013) Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy for Depression. 2nd edn. New York: Guilford Press.
Hayes, S.C., Strosahl, K.D. & Wilson, K.G. (2012) Acceptance and Commitment Therapy: The Process and Practice of Mindful Change. 2nd edn. New York: Guilford Press.
Bridges, W. (2004) Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes. 2nd edn. London: Nicholas Brealey.