The Gap Between No More & Not Yet

During time spent in London, I was charmed by the steady recorded voice that greets travelers entering and exiting the Tube: “Mind the gap.” A simple reminder to notice the space between the platform and the train.

Now, as I work with women navigating the many transitions of midlife—our natural ripening with time—I find myself echoing the same advice: mind the gap. Notice the space between what is No More and what is Not Yet.

Perhaps you’ve stood there yourself, in that strange in-between place—the pause between the familiar and the unknown.

Between the self you’ve already outgrown and the self you’ve not yet stepped into.

The gap is often uncomfortable, even disorienting. Like standing in an empty hallway with no door yet ajar. Everything in you wants to rush forward—longing for certainty, clarity, a solid plan to stand on.

But urgency rarely serves us here.

Why this blog belongs in Get Clear & Get Moving

You may wonder: why include a reflection on uncertainty in a section titled Get Clear & Get Moving?

Simply put: because this is the paradox of the second half of life.

To move forward authentically, we must also learn to pause. To hold the both/and of life: action and surrender, making plans and waiting, movement and rest.

As a coach, I help women get clear and get moving—but I also honor the power of uncertainty and the necessity of surrender. I practice this myself. Much of my midlife work has been about clearing noise, sitting in discomfort, waiting, reflecting, and loving the parts of me that simply needed me to do nothing for a while.

When I resisted this? Everything just took longer and caused me (and those I love most) additional suffering.

When I surrendered—when I allowed myself to be held, to be curious, to be tempered—then I could finally trust that I was worth the time of both surrender and action.

That’s when clarity ripened and movement truly became both helpful and fruitful.

The sacred pause

Here’s what well-seasoned women begin to understand (usually in our own awkward, messy, cha-cha way):

The gap between No More and Not Yet is not wasted time. It’s sacred space.

It’s the cocoon that cradles you while you shed what no longer serves and where you quietly nurture the strength and clarity that provides the framework for your newly evolving self.

If you can refuse the temptation to scramble out of the in-between as soon as possible (now, please?)—if you can stay long enough to listen—you’ll begin to notice something subtle but profound:

Instead of being lost, you are becoming.

The misunderstood gift of uncertainty

So many of us have been taught that uncertainty is failure—that not knowing means being behind, out of step, or somehow wrong.

But seasons of uncertainty are not mistakes. They are divinely appointed passages, woven with threads of faith and hope.

Of course, no one wants to live stuck in perpetual limbo. But the in-between is rarely permanent. It’s a season with its own sacred work—a time to lean into trust, to nurture hope as practice, to let what’s next ripen in its own good time.

When you stop resisting, you begin to realize: you are being held. The gap is not empty—it is ripe with creative potential.

So, if you feel like you’re running out of time, like you’re somehow behind in living your authentic life, try this:

• Stop and give yourself a little hug while you inhale deeply.

• On the exhale, release the urgency and strain.

• Then, remind yourself of women who bloomed in divine timing: Georgia O’Keeffe, Yuh-Jung Youn, Ina Garten, Angela Bassett. (Their becomings weren’t rushed—and neither must yours be.)

• And remember times in your own life when an outcome took longer than you’d hoped—yet proved worth the wait. (When you name it, you own it.)

• Then affirm this gap-time: “I trust my timing. I am where I need to be. Nothing is wasted, and all is unfolding in its perfect season.”

A gentle reminder

If you are in a season of change right now, here is what I want you to remember:

• You don’t have to have all the answers yet.

• You don’t have to force clarity to arrive on your timeline.

• You are allowed to breathe, to pause, and to rest in the space between.

Look gently at what is being shed. Notice what is quietly taking root.

The in-between is not the final chapter; rather, it’s your passageway to clarity.

If this is you today, remember: the answers will come in due time. The uncertainty won’t last forever.

You are exactly where you’re meant to be. And all is well.

Until then, you are allowed to rest, to anticipate—knowing that what is meant for you has already begun unfolding.