Blending The Old With The New

Living in the In-Between

Many of us find ourselves suspended in the spaces between. We are waiting for that next job, the long-awaited promotion, the offer on our new house to hopefully go through, or even that anticipated wedding proposal. These in-between moments can feel like holding our breath, suspended between what was and what’s yet to come.

I’ve had my fair share of these pauses, where I feel like I am on standby. But last month, while sitting squarely in one of those in-between spaces, I realized it was an invitation to create my own purposeful disruption.

Yesterday marked the start of what I’ll call an open-ended curiosity; a loosely designed, fill-in-the-blank number of months where I’ll explore places that never made it onto my bucket list and experience things I never knew I wanted to see. My intention is to trust this pause to lead me and allow what emerges much like the beginning of a new novel. After all, doesn’t life actually work that way despite us thinking we have control?

Yesterday I stepped off a plane, boarded a two-hour shuttle bound for a place I recently learned existed, and was dropped off at an address I wasn’t entirely sure how to find. The driver, kind and open, shared his story about traveling alone at 14, relying on the kindness of strangers. His words struck me. There is so much courage required of us.

My first full day of this new chapter began not with exploration, but with stillness, savoring the unfamiliar comfort of what will be my ‘new digs’ for now. Soon enough, I’ll navigate the colorful streets of this city in search of food, but for this moment, I’m content to sit, observe, and simply be.

The architecture here is stunning; historic, layered, and in varying stages of disrepair or reengineering. It stirs something in me, prompting reflections on the architecture of life itself. How do we design a life worth preserving, while allowing space for reinvention? How do we blend the old with the new, dismantle what no longer serves us, yet honor the pieces of our history that make us beautiful?

As I sit here, surrounded by walls that have weathered time, I think life, much like architecture, is never meant to be perfect. We are all patchworks of what’s been built, what’s been broken, and what’s still under construction. Some parts of us stand strong, beautifully intact, while others bear the cracks etched by the weight of our experiences. Yet both are essential. The cracks are stories carved into us, just as meaningful as the solid foundations and weathered doors that have stood the test of time.

This adventure we call life isn’t about crossing destinations off a list or checking boxes off our to do's. It’s about learning to live in the in-between spaces, between comfort and discomfort, certainty and curiosity, preservation and reinvention. It’s about noticing what holds steady when everything around us shifts, and recognizing what quietly asks to be dismantled so something new can grow.

In life, in leadership, and in work, we often focus on building. Building strategies, growing careers, enhancing relationships. But how often do we pause to ask: What needs to be preserved? What’s ready to be reimagined?

So today, I’ll leave you with this question that lingers for me: What part of your life is asking to be renovated?