Hello,

Let’s talk about transitions and what they might be here to teach us. It feels fitting as we too, begin to transition from summer to fall.

The past few years of my life have been marked by a lot of change, with endings, beginnings, uncertainty, reinvention, and a constant need to reorient to what life was asking of me in each new chapter.

Most recently came a transition that perhaps no one quite prepares you for - dropping my daughter off at college and returning home to an empty house, to conversations, routines, and small rituals that we once shared so naturally now no longer being woven into my everyday life in the same way.

I knew I would miss her, but what I hadn’t anticipated was how much I would miss the ordinary things - the conversations in passing, the familiar rhythms of our days, the small exchanges that once felt so commonplace, and the cadence of everyday life together.

And in the moments and days that followed, I began to recognize the poignancy of that absence and realize that this, too, is its own kind of grief.

There is such ambivalence in these transitions, because you can feel immense pride and gratitude for the life unfolding in front of someone you love while also mourning, in some way, the version of life that has just changed.

Both can be true.

It has had me thinking more deeply about transitions, about what they reveal to us, and about what they ask of us when life no longer looks or feels the way it once did.

Reminds me of the teachings from The Bhagavad Gita, an ancient Indian scripture within the Mahabharata, set on the eve of a great war. Arjuna, a warrior overcome with doubt, is guided by Krishna, his charioteer and teacher, through questions of duty, action, discernment, and how to relinquish attachment to the outcome.

One of its most known teachings is this -

You have a right to your actions, but never to the fruits of those actions.

Do the work, stay with the doing, and loosen your grip on how it all turns out.

I’ve been contemplating this teaching a lot lately, especially in those moments when life seems to place us in circumstances filled with unforeseen changes, ebbs and flows, uncertainty, and that seemingly never-ending feeling of when will this end?

What if there is something being revealed to us in the process, even if we cannot yet see or understand it?

When you’re in the middle of it, waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel, it can be almost impossible to see a silver lining, and I know there have been times in my own life when I have spent hours asking myself -

What is the teaching here? (this inquiry is not always easy to sit with)

What am I meant to understand from this?

Perhaps I’m still in parts of that inquiry even now, because as I write this I can still feel the waves of emotion that come with change and the reorientation that follows when something familiar no longer exists in the same way.

I wonder if some transitions are less about immediately finding the answer and more about allowing the experience itself to change us - to peel back a few layers, to feel the discomfort of what is shifting, to notice what no longer fits, and to keep moving, however incrementally, towards what feels a bit more supportive.

Part of the work is simply staying in the journey without forcing certainty, as we continue to participate in our own lives and gradually learn to relinquish the need to know exactly how everything will unfold. This is how we build fortitude - the strength to remain present and keep moving in the midst of uncertainty, while holding ourselves with grace and compassion through all the emotions that arise.

Depending on what you're navigating, that kind of trust may not feel possible right now, and if it doesn’t, I hope you let yourself receive support.

When I was moving through some of the most difficult transitions of my own life, I leaned on family, friends, therapists, coaches, and mentors, and I remain deeply grateful for the people who offered perspective, solace, and support when I didn’t yet have much clarity of my own.

In many ways, this is part of the alchemy that became my first book, as I found myself leaning into the rituals, teachings, and practices that helped me move through burnout, uncertainty, reinvention, grief, and those moments when I needed to find my footing again.

The book is now getting ready to make its way into the world, and I can’t wait to share more with you very soon!

If you are moving through a transition of your own right now, you’re always welcome to reply and share with me, if you wish and you will hear back from me.

With gratitude,

Thank you for being here,

Radhika