Change is for me like stepping onto a dance floor where the music keeps shifting. One moment, you’re moving smoothly in a waltz; the next, the tempo shifts to salsa, and suddenly, your carefully rehearsed steps don’t fit anymore. You need to improvise and find your new way of being on the dance floor again.
I used to think of change as a revolution – a big, dramatic crescendo. And while sometimes that might look like it, in reality, it’s more like continuous evolution – an unfolding melody that carries us forward, inviting us to adapt, to sway, to let go of rigid choreography and embrace the dance of life.
On a recent trip to Poland, my home country, reconnecting with family, friends, and preparing for my big day in May (more on that to come soon ?) I’ve got reminded that we are all in motion, whether we recognize it or not. We evolve, we adjust, we find new rhythms. And yet, when change comes, we often resist, holding to old beats instead of trusting ourselves to learn a new step. It’s like refusing to move because the song playing isn’t the one we expected. Instead of enjoying the improvisation, we stand frozen, fearing we’ll miss a step, forgetting that the best dancers aren’t the ones who never stumble, but the ones who recover with grace.
Here’s an invite: What if instead of striving for perfection in every movement, we embraced the beauty of the dance itself? What if the moments of uncertainty – the missed beats, the awkward twirls – are exactly what make the performance memorable as part of our unique way of moving?
During a Positive Intelligence® program I recently completed, one exercise was to look at childhood photos and reconnect with our true essence. It was like hearing an old, familiar tune – one that had always been playing in the background but had been covered by the noise of adulthood.
I found a little girl full of joy, spontaneity, and courage. She danced without overthinking, laughed without hesitation, trusted the dance of life. That girl is still within me, just layered beneath years of learned restraint. And guess what? I get to decide which song I listen to now, how and with whom I want to dance.
Here’s something I’ve learned: The phrase “I am …” is like the key signature of our personal composition. What follows shapes your melody. I used to unconsciously fill in that sentence with doubt and self-judgment. Now, I use it with intention: I am in sync with life. I am evolving. I am love, courage, trust and joy!
So how do we shift from resisting change to dancing with it?
Here are some steps I use, both for myself and in coaching process with my clients:
Tune into your resistance
What’s stopping you from moving (a fear, a belief)? Name it.
Once it’s out in the open, you can decide how to move through it.
Deep self-reflection time: What’s the worst that could happen if I fully embrace this change and move with it?
Find your original rhythm
Pull out an old photo of yourself as a child. What qualities shine through? Your essence is still in you – listen to it.
Deep self-reflection time: What did I love to do before the world told me how I should move?
Note: if you had some traumatic experiences in your early childhood, you could choose instead the photo from the moment of life you felt joy and love or something/someone that makes you feel full of joy and love.
When I compare a photo of myself at two years old with one from today, I smile. I thought I had changed beyond recognition, but the melody of who I am has never stopped playing. I am a symphony in progress, layering harmonies and improvising my dance along the way.
So, I’m dropping the ‘r’ from revolution and embracing evolution. No need for a dramatic crescendo – just an ongoing dance, one beat, one step at a time.
A client once told me, “I’m at my next beginning, and I love it.” What if you approached change like a fresh track, waiting for you to move with it?
