Thursday reflections on what happens when you finally speak, and why the edge is where your power lives.
Last week I wrote about truth that won’t stay quiet. I talked about the pressure building when something needs to be said, and the intensity of finally letting it surface.
But there’s something I didn’t write about: what happens after.
The thing about finally saying what needs to be said is that most people expect fireworks. They brace themselves for drama. They look for immediate consequences. Or at the very least, a clear resolution that makes all the discomfort worth it.
But what they usually get instead is silence.
I don’t mean the cold-shoulder kind of silence. Just… quiet. The other person is likely processing. The relationship is recalibrating. And the nervous system is finally able to rest because the truth is out in the open instead of calcifying inside your body.
I believe that in that quiet, their body calms. The thing they’ve been carrying, sometimes for months or even years, finally has somewhere to go besides their chest, their shoulders, or their jaw. In other words, they often break a pattern they didn’t even realize they were in.
Yup. The real work isn’t the dramatic moment of speaking. It’s learning to live in the quiet that follows.
The misunderstood in-between
There’s this assumption that transition points are meant to be crossed quickly. That when you arrive at an edge in your life, the goal is to leap across it as fast as possible, preferably with a clear plan and certainty about what’s on the other side.
But that’s not how soul work actually happens.
The edge or that space between what was and what wants to become, isn’t a problem to solve or an obstacle to overcome or a gap to bridge with enough courage and positive thinking. It’s a place with its own intelligence, timing, and teaching.
The work is learning to stand in it. To feel what’s there instead of frantically asking everyone else what you should do. To resist the urge to hire another reader, consult another expert, or look for answers outside yourself because the not-knowing feels too uncomfortable.
In all my decades of work, I’ve found that this is where people give their power away. It’s not in the dramatic moments of choice, but in the quiet moments of uncertainty when they don’t trust themselves to simply stay present with what they’re feeling.
You access the intelligence of the edge by staying in it long enough to let your own knowing surface rather than someone else’s interpretation. Your own.
Who finds their way here
I don’t take on many new clients these days. Most people who find me come through referrals, usually from other practitioners or past clients who’ve worked with me. There’s a particular quality to these referrals. It’s a trust that operates on multiple levels before we’ve even spoken, because they don’t always know what they need when they contact me.
They just know they’re standing at an edge and they need someone who understands that the edge itself is sacred ground, not just an inconvenient or emotionally painful space between destinations.
They’re not looking for someone to tell them which way to go, but they ARE looking for soul-led companionship while they figure out their own direction. I’m there while they learn to trust what they’re sensing. And I won’t rush them across the in-between before they’ve learned what it came to teach them.
This is the work. It’s helping people access their own authority instead of performing mine.
There’s a pattern under it all
When you finally speak the truth, you’re standing at an edge. When you’re in transition and don’t know what comes next, you’re standing at an edge. When you’ve been referred to someone because something in you recognized you need a different kind of support, you’re standing at an edge.
These aren’t separate experiences. They’re all the same movement. They’re the moment when your soul is asking you to trust yourself more than you trust the familiar.
And the deepest work happens not in the crossing, but in the standing. In learning that the in-between isn’t empty space to rush through, but where transformation actually lives.
The way I know it, your power isn’t in knowing what’s next. It’s in being able to stay present with not knowing, without abandoning yourself to everyone else’s opinions.
The quiet after truth-telling teaches you this. And the space between what was and what’s becoming teaches you this. It’s when you realize you need someone who won’t give you answers but will help you connect the dots that teaches you this, too.
If you’ve been referred here, or if something in these (news) letters feels familiar, you’re probably standing at an edge right now. And that’s exactly where the work begins.
I have the deepest respect for all the souls learning to trust the in-between,
Jonni
PS: My work is designed for exactly this. The space where you’re between chapters, between identities, and between what was and what wants to become. UNLIMITED EMAIL for daily attunement when the edge feels disorienting. MONTHLY CALLS for steady clarity when you need to check in with someone who won’t rush you across. And starting next year, multi-day 1:1 retreats on my property for those ready to inhabit the transition rather than escape it. If you’ve been referred, or if these words land like recognition, you’re in the right place.
