Spring Dancing with the Unknown

Feeling like you’re standing at the edge of something new but can’t see the clear path yet?

I’ve been there too! Stepping into the unknown isn’t like following a simple map – it’s more like learning to listen to the sounds around you and finding your way one step at a time. When you’re in a transition, it can feel like you’re trying to dance on a slippery floor, not very graceful at first. But you’re not lost. You’re just learning some new moves. And sometimes, before we bloom into who we really are, we have to sway like young trees in the wind.

This past month, I’ve been going through my own big shift. I’m learning to let go of the old, stiff ways that don’t fit anymore and trying on a new way of living and leading – one that feels lighter, freer, and a lot more like me. Of course, my mind – always trying to keep things safe and predictable – keeps pulling me back to old routines. But my heart and my gut brain (yes, we have more than one brains!) are louder these days, helping me find my own path.

Right now, I’m deep in a 3-month “Leading from pleasure” program, learning how to live from trust, joy, and deep connection to my essence, instead of fear or outside pressure. And wow, it’s been something! It’s like doing spring cleaning for your soul: clearing out old junk before you can plant anything new.

Life, however, doesn’t always set the perfect stage for pleasure. This Easter Sunday, just around midnight, I was shaken awake by the sound of helicopters flying low over my neighbourhood. They were searching for someone who had tragically taken another person’s life in the nearby park. It was surreal, heavy, and so close to home. Just next morning, the world mourned the death of the Pope, another weight in the collective field of sadness. These external storms make it harder to stay connected to the lightness of pleasure. They remind us that pain, fear, and grief are part of the dance too.

But here’s the thing: leading from pleasure doesn’t mean ignoring the hard stuff. It means allowing ourselves to feel it all – every raw, messy emotion – without judging it. It means learning to navigate through these inner weather changes, letting them move through us instead of letting them control us.

Insights from the wild path

  • Before pleasure can blossom, the old pain and shadows must be seen, heard, and gently released. It’s not always pretty. It’s messy, muddy, and real, but it’s fertile ground for something beautiful.
  • Joy isn’t a vending machine where you just pop in a coin. It’s more like tending a garden – daily attention, small rituals and patient waiting. Over time, beauty emerges in ways you could never have forced or predicted.
  • Maybe the real “wisdom” is not about collecting more knowledge but about shedding layers, like trees letting go of old leaves, making room for new growth.
  • Leading from pleasure feels like coming home to a place you’ve always sensed but perhaps never fully inhabited, a cozy cabin in the woods with a fire always burning, waiting just for you. It’s the radical act of trusting that you don’t need to “fix” yourself. You are already enough.

Releasing old anger, shame, and outdated survival strategies hasn’t been a gentle breeze. More like a few storms passing through. But with every wild gust, I’ve felt more anchored in myself. I realized how much energy I had spent fitting into boxes that weren’t even mine. And now, in my rhythm, I’m dancing barefoot under open skies, feeling the earth solid beneath me.

If you find yourself standing at the edge of your own forest, wondering if it’s okay not to have a map or the direction is not yet clear – trust the process. Trust the seasons of life, one step at a time and try to look ahead with self-acceptance, self-authority and self-compassion. Here is a practical tool I have developed to support you.

I dedicate this article to my mentor Pamela von Sabljar and the group of fantastic Leaders who became pleasure researchers together with me! My deep gratitude for your wisdom and shared experience.