The Moment Everything Changes: Why The Leap Feels Like Falling and Flying at Once
This is Part 3 of a 5-part series: From Employee to Self-Sovereignty
After the disillusionment cracks you open—after you can no longer unsee what you've seen about your work—you arrive at a critical juncture.
The Leap.
This is the moment of no going back. The crossing. The boundary between the known and the unknown.
Unlike a conventional career transition where you might methodically plan your next move, this threshold represents a fundamental break with your old way of being in relation to work. Whether you made the decision yourself—or the decision was made for you—you've crossed into new territory.
This stage often begins with a burst of clarity: "I can't keep doing this."
You resign. You're laid off. You hit a wall. Whatever the form, the function is the same: your old identity is shedding in the name of something new. And that's no small thing.
The Emotional Landscape of Leaving Everything Behind
What makes this threshold particularly powerful is its emotional complexity. You may simultaneously experience:
Nervous excitement followed immediately by "What have I done?"
Relief paired with crushing identity loss
Deep, intuitive knowing paired with paralyzing fear or regret
One client described this phase perfectly: "I felt like I'd jumped off a cliff—exhilarated by the freedom of falling, terrified by not knowing where I'd land."
Even when the leap feels deeply aligned with your soul's calling, it can bring up grief, fear, and doubt. That's not a sign you've made a mistake—it's a natural response to leaving the familiar, even when the familiar no longer serves you.
The morning after I submitted my resignation, I woke up in a cold sweat. My body was having a full panic response to what my soul knew was right. I spent that day alternating between dancing around my apartment in celebration and curled up on the couch wondering if I'd just destroyed my life.
Both responses were true. Both were sacred. Both were necessary.
When Your Body Leaps Before Your Mind Is Ready
Sometimes the leap happens before you consciously choose it.
Your body gets mysteriously ill and won't recover until you leave. You have a breakdown in the parking lot and simply can't force yourself to walk back inside. You hear yourself quitting in a meeting before your brain has caught up to what your mouth is saying.
I've worked with countless clients whose bodies initiated their leap through illness, anxiety attacks, or complete burnout. One executive told me, "My body literally refused to let me continue. I'd get physically sick every Sunday night. My hands would shake trying to open my laptop. It was like my body staged an intervention my mind wasn't ready to accept."
This isn't weakness. This is wisdom.
Your body knows when you're living out of alignment long before your rational mind is willing to admit it. When you ignore its whispers, it eventually screams. The leap that feels forced upon you through health crisis or breakdown is often your deeper intelligence saving you from a slower death by disconnection.
A Note on Financial Parachutes (And Why Both Paths Are Sacred)
I believe strongly in honoring Maslow's hierarchy of needs in this process. It's difficult to pursue self-actualization when your basic physiological and safety needs aren't secure.
There's an important distinction between leaping without a parachute and leaping with one. Both can be valid paths, but they create very different transformation journeys.
When you leap with financial security—savings, a supportive partner, a part-time income stream, or what I call a "bridge job"—you create a container of safety that allows your transformation to unfold with less acute stress. This isn't "cheating" or making the journey less authentic. It's an act of self-care to ensure your basic needs are met while you navigate the profound identity shifts ahead.
That said, some of you may have leaped without a financial parachute—perhaps through sudden job loss or a health crisis that forced immediate change. This path brings its own gifts and challenges. The pressure of financial necessity can accelerate certain aspects of your transformation, burning away what's nonessential and clarifying your priorities with remarkable speed.
I've witnessed both journeys. The client who saved for two years before leaving, creating a cushion that allowed them to explore without panic. And the one who was unexpectedly laid off, using the pressure to finally launch the business they'd been dreaming about for a decade.
Whichever path you're on, know this: It is an act of self-care to take care of yourself financially. It is also an act of self-care to trust yourself and the safety net you've built and allow yourself to leap when you know it's time.
Your transformation journey needs both security and courage—the wisdom to build a foundation that supports you and the bravery to step beyond what's comfortable when your soul calls you forward.
The Sacred Task of This Threshold
Your primary task in this threshold is threefold:
Own the choice—even if it wasn't yours. If you were laid off or forced into change, there's still a part of you that knew this path was complete. Honor the wisdom in that knowing, even if your conscious mind didn't orchestrate it.
Allow yourself to grieve. The end of any chapter involves loss, even when the chapter wasn't serving you. Give yourself permission to mourn what's ending—the identity, the routine, the colleagues, the known path. Grief isn't a sign you've made a mistake; it's a sign you're human.
Begin to build trust in the part of you that knew it was time. This inner knowing is your compass for the journey ahead. The more you acknowledge and validate it now, the stronger it becomes as your guide through uncertainty.
The Shadows That Rise When You Leap
As you navigate this threshold, be mindful of these common shadows that emerge:
Romanticizing the Past
When uncertainty rises, it's tempting to rewrite history, focusing only on what was comfortable about your previous path while forgetting why you needed to leave.
You'll catch yourself thinking, "Maybe it wasn't that bad. At least I knew what to expect. At least I had a steady paycheck." Your mind will conveniently forget the Sunday night dread, the soul-crushing meetings, the slow erosion of your spirit.
I keep a "Why I Left" list on my phone for these moments. Written in the raw honesty of my breaking point, it reminds me why going back isn't an option, even when moving forward feels terrifying.
Second-Guessing Your Instincts
The rational mind often tries to override the soul's wisdom with practical concerns and worst-case scenarios.
"What if I never make money again?" "What if everyone thinks I'm crazy?" "What if I'm just being dramatic and should have stayed?"
These questions aren't really questions—they're fear dressed up as logic. Your instincts brought you to this threshold for a reason. The same inner wisdom that recognized the misalignment is guiding you toward something better, even if you can't see it yet.
Rushing Ahead to Avoid Discomfort
Many people try to skip through the emotional processing of this threshold by immediately filling the space with new activities or identities.
They launch straight into networking, immediately start a business, or frantically apply for new jobs—anything to avoid sitting with the vulnerability of not knowing who they are without their former identity.
But this threshold has medicine for you that only comes through feeling it fully. Rush through it, and you'll miss the profound insights that emerge in the space between identities.
The Strength Hidden in Your Terror
The core strength of this threshold is bravery.
Even if you didn't plan it, even if it feels terrifying, even if you were pushed rather than jumped—you crossed the threshold. That's courage.
This courage becomes a resource you'll draw upon throughout the rest of your transformation journey. Remember it when doubt arises in later thresholds. You've already done the hardest thing: you've begun.
There's a particular quality to the courage of the leap that's different from other kinds of bravery. It's not the courage of knowing what comes next and facing it anyway. It's the courage of not knowing and leaping anyway. It's the courage of trusting something invisible—a feeling, an intuition, a knowing that can't be proven or guaranteed.
This is the courage of the soul overriding the ego's need for certainty. And once you've accessed it, you've proven to yourself that you're capable of trusting something deeper than logic. That trust becomes the foundation for everything that follows.
Signs You're in The Leap Threshold
How do you know if you're in this particular threshold? Here are the signs:
-- You've made a tangible break with your previous work identity (whether by choice or circumstance) -- You experience waves of liberation followed immediately by panic -- You find yourself saying "I used to be..." when describing yourself -- You feel both lighter and less certain than before -- You're in the space between identities—no longer your old role, not yet your new expression -- Your body feels different—sometimes energized with possibility, sometimes exhausted from the emotional weight -- You have moments of crystal clarity followed by complete confusion -- Time feels strange—some days drag while weeks disappear
What Actually Helps During This Phase
Through my own leap and witnessing hundreds of others, here's what actually helps navigate this threshold:
Create Rituals of Completion
Find tangible ways to consciously close the chapter that's ending. Write a letter to your old career self. Have a ceremony where you burn or bury something symbolic of your old identity. Create closure in a way that feels meaningful to you.
One client held a "career funeral" with close friends, complete with eulogies for her corporate self. Another created an altar with objects from her old career, visiting it daily to honor what was while making space for what's becoming.
Allow Yourself to Feel Everything
Resist the urge to bypass emotions through excessive positivity or rushed decision-making. The full spectrum of feelings—relief, grief, excitement, terror—all belong here. They're all sacred. They're all information.
Set aside time each day to simply feel without trying to fix or change anything. Journal without censoring. Cry when you need to. Celebrate when joy arises. Let your emotional experience be as complex and contradictory as it needs to be.
Gather Evidence of Your Inner Wisdom
Recall other times when you knew something was right even without logical proof. When have you trusted your intuition before and been validated? When has your body's wisdom proven correct?
Create an "intuition wins" list—every time your gut feeling was right, every time following your inner knowing led to something good, even if it didn't make sense at the time. This becomes your evidence file for trusting yourself now.
Find Witnesses for Your Leap
Connect with others who understand the spiritual significance of this threshold rather than those who might pull you back out of concern.
You need people who won't try to talk you out of your transformation, who won't project their own fears onto your journey. Seek out those who've made their own leaps, who understand that sometimes destruction precedes creation, who can hold space for your becoming without needing to fix or rush it.
Practice Being in the Unknown
This is the first of several thresholds that will ask you to trust without seeing the full path. Start small. Take a different route home. Try a new food. Say yes to an unexpected invitation. Build your tolerance for uncertainty in low-stakes ways.
The unknown isn't empty—it's pregnant with possibility. The more comfortable you become with not knowing, the more space you create for something genuinely new to emerge.
The Hidden Gift of the Leap
Here's what nobody tells you about this threshold: the leap itself is the transformation.
It's not just a step toward change—it is the change. The moment you leap, you become someone who leaps. You join the ranks of those who chose their soul over their security, their truth over their comfort, their becoming over their belonging.
This identity shift—from someone who stays to someone who leaps—is permanent. Even if you were pushed, even if you're terrified, even if you have no idea what comes next, you've proven something fundamental to yourself: you're capable of choosing the unknown over the unbearable.
That changes everything.
What Emerges After the Leap
As you integrate this threshold, something unexpected often happens. The panic begins to settle, and in its place, a strange new sensation emerges: spaciousness.
Without the constant pressure of maintaining an identity that no longer fits, without the energy drain of pretending everything's fine, without the weight of a path that isn't yours—suddenly there's room.
Room to breathe. Room to feel. Room to discover who you are when you're not performing someone else's definition of success.
This spaciousness can feel disorienting at first. We're so used to being busy, to having our identity clearly defined, to knowing what's expected of us. The absence of these familiar structures can feel like falling.
Your Next Step
If you're standing at the edge of your own leap—or if you've already jumped and need support navigating the freefall—I'm here.
I'm offering free 30-minute Sacred Threshold conversations for those navigating this profound transition. This isn't a sales pitch disguised as a consultation. It's a genuine space to explore what's emerging for you, to have your leap witnessed by someone who understands its significance, and to gain clarity on your next steps.
We'll talk about where you are in your threshold journey, what's feeling alive (and what's feeling terrifying), and what might be wanting to emerge through this transformation. Sometimes just being deeply heard by someone who gets it can shift everything.
Schedule your free consultation here - because some journeys aren't meant to be walked alone.
XOXO,
Alex
P.S. - If you're not ready to talk but want to stay connected to this exploration, subscribe to receive the rest of this series. The next issue explores The Void—that fertile emptiness where your new identity begins to take shape.