What to actually do in the Neutral Zone

Last week I wrote about William Bridges' idea that transition doesn't start with a new beginning. It starts with an ending.

A few of you replied to saying it was exactly what you needed and that you couldn't wait to sit with the questions. So this week I want to go further into the part most people find hardest: the Neutral Zone.

Bridges describes it as the space between ending something and beginning the next thing. The old way is gone. The new hasn't taken shape yet. It's disorienting. And most people try to outrun it.

The ending I hadn't named

For close to a decade, my work took me across the world. I'd deploy to different places for months at a time, then go home for a few weeks, then leave again. It was transient. I didn't really have a base.

But there was something about that life I really loved, and it was that connection came easily. When you're deployed somewhere with a shared purpose, everyone is looking for the same thing. Friendship. A family away from home. Your roommates become your people. You can make friends anywhere, spontaneously, because the environment creates it for you.

That was my normal for years. And I'd never thought of it as something I might one day have to grieve.

When I moved to a remote area in a different country, a place with a culture that takes time to let you in, I realised quite quickly that the world I'd always lived in wasn't following me. The spontaneity was gone. The ease was gone. And I hadn't prepared for that at all.

The Neutral Zone I found myself in

The hardest part of that transition wasn't the practical things. It was the identity question underneath them.

Who was I when connection didn't come easily? How would I build community from scratch? And if I couldn't do it here, how would I maintain the friendships I'd built elsewhere? How would I stay close to family? How would I keep growing?

Bridges writes about the Neutral Zone as a threshold, something many cultures across time have recognised as necessary. A desert crossing. Not dead time. The time when the internal work happens, if you let it.

I didn't find it easy. It took years. But I did find my way through it.

What I actually did

For the first time in nearly a decade, I could join a tennis club and actually go every week. Sign up to a gym and be a regular. That sounds small, but having a physical anchor, somewhere you show up consistently and people start to know you, matters more than I expected.

I stopped waiting to be included and started inviting people in. We had people over. We looked for ways to be part of something rather than waiting for something to include us.

I leaned on friendships that existed outside of where I was. I travelled to see people. It was one of the best decisions I could have ever made, whilst also the new friendships were still forming.

I also picked up watercolour painting. Something just for me, with no social requirement attached to it.

And I wrote a list of things I wanted to challenge myself to do. Not a plan. More like: here's who I want to keep growing into. What would that require, here, in this context?

What shifts when you do this with intention

Something changes inside you when you do this work. Some of it you can name. Some of it you sense before you have language for it.

You find different ways to be more yourself. This is the challenge transition asks of you.

And when you've done it, other people feel it. You stop carrying the weight of what you lost into every new room. Things that used to irk you don't anymore. The lingering feelings aren't so loud. They stop controlling you. People notice the shift in your energy before you've finished explaining it to yourself.

This isn't only about moving country. It applies to any transition where the environment you relied on is no longer there. A job. A relationship. A version of your life that once made things feel easy.

The Neutral Zone looks different every time. What you do inside it is yours to choose.

As I was mapping out this article, I realised how many transitional moments there have been in my life. Each one handled differently. Some messy. All of them full of growth. I chose one to share.

If you'd like someone to make sense of your context with and chat during a walk and talk in nature (one of my most favourite things to do), just hit reply.

With you,

Linda

Founder of Touching Distance