How to Rethink, Reimagine, and Move Forward When Everything is Changing

For decades, I clung to beliefs that felt like a lifeline. Even when they didn’t fit, I assumed the fault was mine. I thought if I just tried harder and prayed more, I’d find alignment. But I didn’t. Instead, I suffered.

Letting go wasn’t an option—not for a long time. My beliefs were woven into the fabric of who I was. Questioning them felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that if I jumped, I might not survive the fall.

But the suffering became unbearable. So, eventually, I jumped.

I almost died. Some days, it felt like I was peeling my own skin off, layer by layer. I barely recognized myself and others no longer recognized me. The confusion, fear, and despair were suffocating. I wandered blindly through the dark, grasping for anything solid. No one handed me a roadmap, but a few offered a hand. Slowly, glimmers of light began to appear. Bit by bit, they grew.

Since that great unravelling of belief, I stay wary of clinging too tightly to any worldview. I hold my beliefs with open hands. Not because I don’t stand for anything—oh, I do!—but because I know how easy it is to mistake certainty for truth.

I see it everywhere. People gripping tight to ideas that can’t hold them anymore, afraid to let go.

What We Can’t See

I’m reading An Immense World by Ed Yong, a book about how animals experience reality in ways we can’t even imagine. Some creatures hear frequencies beyond our range. Others see spectrums of light we’ll never perceive. We humans like to believe we take in the world as it is, but the truth is, we are always missing something—we only ever see truth partially.

Lately, when I walk in the woods, I try to notice more. I pause, breathe deeply, and listen. I feel the sun warming my skin, the cool wind brushing against my face. I take in the scent of damp earth and the faint sweetness of pine. I remind myself that there is more happening than I can ever perceive. And I ask myself: How much of what I think I know is just another illusion or partial truth?

Why We Cling to Our Beliefs

Psychologist George Kelly compared beliefs to reality goggles, which we use to make sense of the world. But when those goggles crack, when something challenges what we think we know, we don’t usually take them off. Instead, we tighten them, trying to hold everything together. We twist, contort, rationalize—anything to keep our worldview intact.

It’s human nature but also dangerous because the world never stops changing. And when it changes, our old ways of seeing won’t save us.

I get why people resist change. It’s not just about the belief itself—it’s about who we are without it. If we let go, what’s left? Who’s left? That fear keeps people gripping tightly to what no longer serves them, even when everything around them is shifting.

Neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett reminds us that our brains are wired to predict what’s next based on what has already been. Letting go of an old belief isn’t just uncomfortable; it can feel unsafe. But that doesn’t mean the belief is true. It just means we’ve worn deep grooves into an old map. Maybe it’s time for a new one.

What Comes After Letting Go

At first, letting go can feel like freefall. The ground you stood on, the certainty you built your life around, vanishes beneath you. But what if it’s not falling at all? What if it’s flight?

What if, instead of gripping tighter, we trusted that something new wants to emerge? What if the space left behind by an old belief isn’t emptiness but possibility?

I’ve found that something remarkable happens when I stop fighting for control and allow myself to stand in the unknown. Clarity arrives, not all at once, but in glimpses. New ways of thinking surface, and unexpected perspectives find me. I stop seeing the world through old, cracked lenses, and instead, I catch glimpses of something new—new possibilities, new opportunities, new ways of being.

The Courage to Not-Know

What if we stopped treating uncertainty as something to fear?

Because here’s the thing: we don’t know what’s coming next. Yes, things look frightening, but we can’t know how things will go. Not with any certainty. The ground beneath us is shifting, whether we like it or not. And those who will make it through aren’t the ones gripping hardest to old paradigms.

They are the ones willing to see what wants to emerge and focus there rather than on what is crumbling.

Joan Halifax said, “All too often, we hold on to what we believe to be solid, when in truth, everything is shifting. Liberation begins the moment we recognize that groundlessness is not a curse, but a doorway.”

What if we stopped fighting the shift and started stepping through the doorway?

A Challenge for Us All

I won’t pretend I have mastered this. Even now, I catch myself tightening my grip, trying to make sense of things. But when I notice, I pause and breathe. I remind myself that clarity isn’t about having all the answers but about staying open to the questions.

Maybe it’s whispering, I don’t have to have all the answers right now, and that’s OK. Maybe it’s learning to rest in the unknown, trusting that something meaningful will arise in time.

So, I’ll keep walking. I’ll keep noticing. I’ll keep breathing in the uncertainty and trusting that something new is constantly unfolding, even if I can’t see the whole picture.

I can either help usher in the new or cling to what no longer holds, pretending I can’t feel the shift already happening.

I know which choice I want to make. What about you? Will you hold on tighter, or will you open your hands and see what wants to emerge? Maybe that’s where something new begins—when we stop gripping so tightly and allow space for what’s next.

If this stirred something in you, share it with someone who might be standing in their own uncertainty. And if you’d like to keep exploring these ideas together, subscribe here. Your thoughts, reflections, and even a simple ‘like’ mean more than you know. Let’s keep finding our way—one step at a time. 🤗