The Space Between Navigating Dreams and Purpose

Let’s talk about that weird, foggy, in-between season.

You know the one.

When you’re not lost, but definitely not found.
When you have this dream that hums inside your chest like background music, but every time you try to follow it, the road disappears. And you start to wonder—is this even a dream? Or did I just make it up to survive where I was?

That in-between space—the place between what you want and how to get there—can feel like a slow ache. It’s not loud, not dramatic. It’s just this quiet, aching distance between you and your purpose.

But here’s what no one really says:
That space? That foggy, slow, uncertain place?
It’s sacred.

It’s where the real work happens.
It’s where you start shedding the version of you that was built just to survive.
And even though it looks like nothing’s happening—like you’re stuck—things are moving under the surface. Quiet shifts. Small realignments. Tiny decisions to keep going.

Because becoming isn’t always loud.
It’s not always inspiring or Instagrammable.
Sometimes it looks like getting out of bed when you don’t want to.
Sometimes it’s saying no when you’re scared to disappoint.
Sometimes it’s resting. Just resting.

Purpose isn’t a destination. It’s a rhythm.
And we find it in our rituales—the ones we return to when the world gets too loud.
The quiet routines that ground us, hold us, remind us we’re still here.
Not performing. Just being.

So if this week, all you did was scroll for comfort, cry for no reason, cancel plans, whisper “maybe tomorrow,” or just breathe a little deeper—you’re still in it. You’re still building. You’re still worthy.

You're not broken. You’re between.
And that, too, is part of your rituale.