Limbo and Living in the Unknown
How to stay present when you don't have the answers.
Think About It
“Sometimes limbo is a tolerable place to be stuck.” - William Boyd
Last month, I wrote about transitions, how they reshape us quietly, how they humble us, and how they invite us to listen more closely.
This month, I’ve been sitting in the space between transitions. The limbo. The part that doesn’t get talked about as much.
It’s one thing to name a transition when you're already on the other side. It's something else entirely to live in the waiting, when the old has ended, but the new hasn't fully arrived.
That space can feel terrifying. Disorienting. Like standing on the edge of a cliff in the fog. You can’t go back, but you can’t see what’s ahead either.
And yet, this tender space is often where the deepest transformation happens.
The Illusion of Certainty
We’ve been conditioned to crave clarity. Our minds want linear paths, action plans, outcomes. We love a five-step process. And in many ways, that makes sense. Certainty feels safe. It feels productive. It gives us something to hold onto.
But our bodies don’t operate on clarity. They operate on presence.
Our nervous system doesn't need a full roadmap. It just needs to know we’re safe right now. That we can breathe here. That we can stay.
When we reject limbo, when we rush it or numb through it, our bodies feel that tension. We armor up. We disconnect. We operate from survival instead of truth.
But when we allow the pause and make space for not knowing, we create the conditions for deeper wisdom to surface.
What Limbo Has Been Teaching Me
Right now, I’m in an in-between season. I’m not fully in who I used to be: the publicist, the performer, the woman constantly producing. But I’m not fully in what’s next either.
I’m softening into coaching, into storytelling, into motherhood. Into the deep, sometimes uncomfortable process of becoming.
There are days when I feel the urge to rush it. To name it. To launch the thing. But my body is asking me to stay with the unknown. To trust what’s unfolding instead of forcing a timeline.
This isn’t passive. It’s not giving up. It’s an active kind of surrender. One that asks me to stay rooted here, to feel what’s present, to stop trying to escape this moment because it doesn’t have a name yet.
A Few Things That Help Me Stay With the Unknown:
🌿 Body scans. When I notice myself spiraling into “What’s next?” I pause and scan my body: Where is there tension? Where is there softness? What needs attention right now? Not next week, not next year.
🌿 Naming without fixing. I journal short phrases like: I feel untethered. I feel curious. I feel anxious. I feel hopeful. No pressure to tie it in a bow. Just name it and let it be.
🌿 Movement. Not to escape the feeling, but to move it. A walk. A few stretches on the floor. A dance break with my daughter. The body holds what the mind can’t process. Letting it move shifts something.
🌿 Reminders that limbo is sacred. I keep a note in my phone that says: “Not knowing is an opportunity.” Because it is. It always is.
If You’re in Limbo Too…
I see you. And I invite you to ask:
What am I trying to rush or force that actually needs more time?
Where am I outsourcing certainty instead of grounding in presence?
What is my body telling me that my mind hasn’t caught up to yet?
This space is tender. It’s also ripe. You don’t need to have it figured out to be doing the work. The work is staying with yourself through the fog.
I’ll be back soon with more on the podcast and offerings, but for now, I’m honoring the pause. Honoring the mystery. Honoring the power of not knowing.
May you feel safe enough to stay in the in-between.
May your body guide you.
More soon. 💛
About Me
I’m Shanetta McDonald, a somatic life coach, writer, and former publicist turned guide for folks learning to live more fully in their truth. Over the past decade, I’ve helped shape the stories of changemakers, creatives, and mission-driven brands. Now, I help people—especially women—release perfection, reconnect with their bodies, and rewrite the narratives that no longer serve them.
Whether you’re a high-achiever learning to soften, a mother reclaiming herself, or a creative trying to find your voice again, you’re in the right place. My work is rooted in nervous system awareness, embodied storytelling, and the belief that your inner wisdom already knows the way.
You can find me on Instagram and on my podcast Your Body Knows, where I explore healing, identity, and the many ways we come home to ourselves.