How to Handle Uncertainty

(mouse clicking) (gentle music) Headspace Studios. (soft serene music) Hi there, and welcome to "Radio Headspace." I'm Dora. So there was a season of my life where everything felt unsettled. I had just left a long-term relationship. I wasn't working, at least not in the way I was used to. And I found myself in a strange in-between space, waiting to hear back about another job, wondering if I had pivoted completely and figuring out how to take care of myself in the meantime. Everything felt up in the air. And if you've ever been there, you know it's not a place that makes you feel productive. At first, I tried to do what I always do. Make a plan, organize the uncertainty, fill the gaps. But eventually, that just led to more restlessness. One afternoon, I stopped trying. I turned off my notifications, laid on the floor, and just allowed myself to be. Not trying to figure it out or distract myself, but simply just being and breathing. It wasn't dramatic or even particularly comforting, but it was honest. And in that quiet moment, something clicked. I didn't need to chase the answer. I needed to practice being with the question. For some of us, we may believe that peace is something we earn once we've figured it all out. But more often than not, peace is what shows up when we stop wrestling with uncertainty, when we meet the unknown with presence instead of pressure. And mindfulness doesn't erase the unknown, it helps us stay steady inside of it. I was talking to my therapist during that stretch of uncertainty, and I remember saying, "It just feels like nothing's happening. Like I'm floating between versions of myself." She paused and gently said, "What if the space isn't empty? What if it's preparing you for something you can't see yet?" And this wasn't some big revelation, but it just landed. Because up until then, I had been treating that period like a problem to fix. I thought if I wasn't moving forward or crossing something off a list, I must be stuck. But that conversation helped me see the pause differently. It wasn't failure, it wasn't lost time. It was a stretch of ground that was quietly doing its work, helping me let go of what no longer fit so I could make room for something new. And instead of trying to rush through it, I started to treat it with a little more care. I spent more time outside. I journaled more often. I let myself rest without guilt. It wasn't always easy, but over time, I realized that the waiting wasn't holding me back. It was holding me. So if you're in your own version of that waiting room right now, I wanna offer you this. You don't have to solve everything today. You don't need to speed up what's unfolding. Try anchoring yourself in small things that remind you that you're still here. Sit in silence for...