By Tuesday Rivera This is the third in a three-part series that Tuesday has written about transformation (revisit Part 1 & Part 2 below). In hindsight, this could actually have been the first instalment of the series, but that is not how it flowed from her. In fact, she says that it feels like this could only be written at this specific moment in her own transformation. She reflects on staying in the liminal space of transformation far longer than she anticipated. This extended period has allowed her to uncover and articulate long-held patterns that we all experience in our lives that make our own transformations both slower and more necessary. When I began to get a strange sense about my work in the world coming from inside me, felt the gentle rumblings of “not this”, I was able to ignore them. I’m just working too much, I thought. I’m burnt out. I’m sore from the ongoing effort of trying to make change in the world. I need to slow down.
And then, through a huge effort of will (and many months of therapy), the support of loved ones, and a global pandemic, I did slow down. Work slowed down. And while there was always more than enough to do, my work somehow became manageable, and that felt A LOT better. But interestingly, the quiet “not this” that seemed to emanate from my very bones continued. And now, I had time to pay attention to it. Maybe this is how transformation started for many of us as we came out of the pandemic. The little niggles of not-quite-aligned were now able to be noticed, investigated, and more deeply considered. The pace of our lives made the quiet doubts and discomfort of how we were spending our days unable to be ignored. What we had tolerated - onerous tasks, unrealistic schedules, objectionable people - now became, if not untenable, then at least undesirable. And we had the time to notice. And to desire more. We started to desire meaningful work, reasonable schedules, and people pulling in the same direction as we are. We understood that our time, our lives, are valuable beyond production even if what we’re producing is good for the world, were fused to be complicit in a grind that no longer made us feel accomplished, let alone happy. Fortunately for many of us who are making change in the world, meaningful work and admirable people are part of the job, but I found that, even when I rearranged my calendar to be more sensible, the feeling of “not this” continued. In fact, it became more insistent.
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By Tuesday Rivera and 4 tips as everything dissolves.At The Outside, we used to talk about the need for transformation. “Old systems are failing,” we’d say. “We’re being asked to do more with less; we are facing issues more complex than ever; etc.” Now, however, we don’t talk about that much because there is no longer a need for transformation. Instead, there is only the reality of transformation: happening at all times and seemingly unstoppable.
Transformation is happening around us, between us, and within us. It may be personal, organizational, or systemic, but there is no doubt that everything is up in the air and we are floundering to catch the pieces as they fall. In the prevailing conversation about transformation, the concept of liminal space is often invoked to help us to understand the middle phase of transformation, the “space in between” - where we are neither what we were nor what we’re going to be. We don’t know what we are becoming but we know we are not what we were. It is that space that feels full of both uncertainty and possibility. The example of the butterfly can be very helpful in understanding this space. The cocoon is an actual physical “liminal space” - the place where the caterpillar goes to dissolve and then reform into the butterfly. It’s quite miraculous. One kind of being enters a space of deep unraveling - even on a cellular level! - and comes out of that space something entirely new. It is a perfect metaphor for our transformation fable. One can only imagine that the caterpillar is driven by some powerful instinct to create and enter the chrysalis with no real understanding of the transformation about to happen. In fact, caterpillars enter the cocoon with the express purpose of transforming into a butterfly. And as far as we can understand, after dissolution, those cells just “know” how to reform into a beautiful winged creature. Using the butterfly as an example, we can begin to see the failing of our systems and organizations - and even our personal lives - as the necessary precursor to our own evolution. Our own caterpillar to butterfly hero’s journey. We can trust that we will know what to do once we come apart. That the very laws of nature will support our transformation. It is a hopeful orientation to the unceasing transformation around us. But I’ve recently entered that chrysalis - and haven’t emerged yet if I’m honest, and I have to tell you nothing feels normal or natural or evolutionary about it. It feels hard. And scary. And uncertain. And I DO NOT THINK MY CELLS KNOW HOW TO DO THIS. By Tuesday Rivera 6 things to do that bring clarity in the midst of uncertaintyIn our ongoing series about navigating transition (Part 1 here), Tuesday explores what to do when we don’t know what to do next. What happens when we aren’t sure of our next step? What do we do when we don’t know what’s next or how to get there? Where do we turn when all we really want is a crystal ball to tell us something, anything, about the future that stretches out before us, and crystal balls are in short supply?
Many of us are in transition right now. Or, rather, many of us want to be in transition right now but we actually feel stuck right where we are. Or maybe, it’s fairer to say that our minds are in transition though our bodies may be right where they’ve always been. We know that we don't want what we have - be it our current job, our primary relationship, or perhaps the place we live - but we also don’t know what we want. We are stuck in the NOW which is unsatisfying, unfulfilling and perhaps even toxic, but we can’t imagine where to go next or can’t see a way to get there. We know that we have to take steps but don’t know where we want to go or how to get there, so it’s hard to know where to place our feet. This is why the idea of “visioning” is so attractive - it gives us a direction, a goal. We imagine a future where we are clear and living our best life. And once we have an idea of that target, we can begin to build a path to get there. But in these wild times, many of us are failing to even have a vision. We’re ready to let our arrow fly toward our targeted vision but the fog is so deep in front of us that we can’t even see the direction of the bullseye! Sometimes it’s because our vision is vague - we want a slower pace, a quieter life, to be in nature, to write, or we just want something different - and it’s hard to know whether to point ourselves left or right. Sometimes we know what we want - to be a teacher, to get a divorce, to move to the country - but we can’t imagine how to possibly get there. When that’s the case, I suggest that we put away our vision boards, forget the ideas of targets and arrows and bullseyes, stop looking for that crystal ball that will tell us the future and, instead, remember who we are. Remembering who we are, means that we are never truly stuck or lost. Uncertain, sure. Plagued by doubt, absolutely. But lost, nope. We can’t get lost when we remember that we have a home right here within ourselves. All we have to do is remember ourselves, and we are there. Spiritual leaders will tell us that we can remember who we are with every breath. I believe that to be true, but I also know the feeling of being unable to catch my breath because I am so uncertain about my future. So, how do I remember who I am at any given moment - especially if I’m anxious and breathless? I have started engaging in small, but contradictory behaviors. When I want to remember who I am, I have a set of actions that are in opposition to each other, that help me find myself. Each of these help me to reacquaint me with myself. And while I don’t necessarily do the below in any kind of sequence, I have noticed that doing them regularly is a sure way to remember who I am. |
TUESDAY RIVERAHello there! This resource page is a space for me to share inspiration, insight, and connection. Here, I’ll offer reflections and practical guidance related to personal transformation, intuitive practices, and embracing the divine feminine as well as other topics that have my attention. Whether you’re seeking insight, a bit of encouragement, or tools for transformation, I hope you find meaningful content here to guide your journey. CategoriesArchives
May 2026
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