Finding Your Next—Without Forcing It

Sustaining The Change

Choosing a direction didn’t bring lasting clarity the way I imagined it might. There was relief, yes, but with it came a new realization: deciding on a first step doesn’t mean the whole path suddenly appears. It simply means you’ve decided to stop standing still. Once that happens, a different question emerges. Not where will this lead? but how will I maintain this?

Newfound direction is exciting at first, providing momentum to get you started. At least, that’s how it has played out for me most times. Personally, I work best with a well-laid plan or general outline. Once I have a direction, I’m typically energized, jumping right into forming the next steps. Having a plan broken down into achievable pieces is what got me to where I am now. Even if that’s no longer where I want to be, it did get me out of a dead-end job in the small town I grew up in, and that was only the first of many goal-driven plans I’ve seen through since.

The thing is, finding your first next step, and even the one or two after it, does not resolve the general discomfort of choosing and embodying change. I found what starts me on the path toward wellness gatherings, cultivating community, and ultimately helping people, and that’s great. But how do I intertwine my next with my now? This question shifted me from what to how.

I had to form a reasonable plan to weave health coach training into my full-time work schedule without feeding a flame that would lead to burnout. The decision to not only pursue something new, but to see it through, needed to be realistic before anything else. Otherwise, I was just spinning in place.

Step one: find my next — check.
Step two: sustain my next. Oof.

When I feel overwhelmed, something I’ve always done is make a list. No particular order at first. Just questions, to-dos, and even some “already-dones” for perspective and confidence. From there, I can begin prioritizing and creating mini-lists as needed.

Under how and finding the time, a few more questions emerged:
What exactly is my current routine?
Where is there room for adjustment?
Would these adjustments be sustainable long-term?
What possible barriers should I anticipate, and what workarounds might help?

Finding these answers took time and serious negotiation with my existing routine. Outside of my non-negotiables around sleep and food, I had to identify areas of flexibility. This step takes time and deserves deep consideration. I’m thankful to have had a brainstorming partner to bounce ideas off of and gain insight from outside perspectives. If you can find yourself a good brainstorming buddy, I highly recommend it. Otherwise, there’s always the good old interweb, which I personally typed a million questions into during this phase.

Deep into my next, and many lists upon lists later, I’d found my how. The only thing left to do was execute.

I’ll be honest. I love forming a plan. Identifying actionable steps and breaking them down is deeply satisfying to me. It’s the doing that can pose a struggle now and then. I’ve decided that’s okay. I’m human — change is hard. Commitment to consistency toward that change is even harder.

Many days, I found myself thinking:
What am I doing?
With everything going on in the world, no one’s going to be interested in personal betterment, especially from me.
And the ever-familiar imposter-syndrome refrain: Who do I think I am? Like I’ll actually be able to do this, let alone pay my bills with it.

I constantly thought about how deeply people are struggling right now, and how they shouldn’t have to pay for support in the first place. The list went on and on. This is normal. It’s our ego’s attempt to keep us safe, contained within the comfort of the known. If it weren’t for my genuine interest in the coursework, I might have stayed stuck there longer than I’d like to admit.

It was the value in learning how to support people effectively that kept my purpose in view. When you can feel purpose in something, you gain strength from within to stay close to it. I think, as humans, we thrive there and feel lost without it.

Within the discomfort of change, I’ve realized that a solid foundation is built by anchoring into purpose and allowing it to fuel your flame in a way that keeps you grounded and sustained. This shifts you from forced momentum into passion-driven remembrance: into allowance.

Allow yourself to be present with each step, list, and question.
Allow yourself time and space to move with grace.
Honor every misstep for the lesson it carries, letting it guide you further along your path toward truth.

Finding your next step doesn’t guarantee certainty, confidence, or even a fully formed plan. Sometimes, it simply means staying present with what you’ve chosen and attentive to how it’s meeting you.