The Sacred Wisdom of an Unhurried Transition

Blog by Brenda Renderos, Unhurried Living Associate

We had just finished our back patio improvements, and the electrician was now showing me (Brenda) how to use our newly installed porch fan—off, on, speed, timer, direction. Got it!

Later, as I sat outside taking in the upgrades, I recalled him saying that fan direction depends on the season. One way for colder winter seasons. The other way for hot summer days. I just couldn’t remember which was which.

After a quick internet search and a brief moment spent finding the right button on the fan remote, I was able to change the fan’s direction.

I stood there watching the fan gradually slow down, pause, and then spin its way back to full speed in the opposite direction—all with the same unhurried pace.

And this intrigued me so much that I changed the direction twice more just to watch.

Transitions don’t just happen.

When I pressed the button, nothing immediately changed—at least not to my physical eyes. But the fan had already received the signal. Something inward had shifted. The process of transition had begun.

Then it started to slow down. The change was so gradual. And I realized that if the fan had just abruptly stopped from full speed, the force could have damaged the unit and possibly even detached it from its mount, which would have sent it crashing into the furniture and maybe even me.

Slow, gradual, unhurried change is best. Healthy transitions are rarely instantaneous.

But when that inner switch clicks and I sense it’s time for a transition? I’m ready! Let’s go now! And I’ll confess, more than once I’ve pushed hard to speed up transitions. I wanted to be there already. I wanted to show I was growing. And more often than not, I’ve had to do the painstaking work of circling back and spending even more time in repair because I wouldn’t let the pace of change run its course.

The patio fan slowed until it paused. Such a gentle stop. But it was a stop. A brief moment of nothingness.

The first time I saw that, I thought I had accidentally hit the Off button. But all was well. This was simply the pause as the fan readied itself for the shift.

There’s this holy in-between in transition. A place that can feel like a void. A nothingness. Where we quietly wonder if we’ve drifted off course. And that’s a good question to sit with.

But often this is a sacred space. It’s a gift from God that protects us from becoming disconnected, from causing damage to ourselves and to the people closest to us.

It’s the space I’m most uncomfortable with because this is where I feel disruption most deeply.

I’m not who I was. But I’m not yet who I am becoming.

And then the fan begins to spin in its new direction. It doesn’t launch into full speed in a race against the other neighborhood patio fans. It moves gently, precisely, with a kind of dignity.

When we’re stepping into who we’re becoming, it’s worth remembering: We’ve never been here before.

I’d been spinning in the other direction for so long. But this opposite direction? I’m new here. The slow and gentle shift is an unhurried space to arrive—curiously, sacredly—into something that hasn’t existed before. I need space to notice how it feels, what thoughts it stirs, and how this newness begins to move through the world I inhabit.

And finally, the fan returns to moving at speed in its renewed purpose. As I sat with that for a while, something in me settled.

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Not off course. Not behind. Simply in the flow of a transformational life—one that carries its own sacred wisdom about when to slow, when to pause, and when to spin freely in a new direction.

For Reflection: 

• When you sense an inner shift signaling it's time for transition, what is your first instinct—to ease into it or to rush toward what's next? What does that instinct cost you or give you?
• The pause—that holy in-between—is described as a sacred gift, even when it feels like a void. Is there an area of your life right now where you may be in a pause you've been resisting or misreading as being off course?
• Stepping into a new direction means going somewhere you've never been before. What would it look like to enter that newness with curiosity and gentleness rather than pressure to perform or prove?

Brenda is a transformation life coach (ICF Approved) and holds a B.A. in Christian Studies. She has served and been employed in various areas of ministry in leadership, soul care, speaking and teaching as well as guiding interns exploring vocational ministry.

Brenda has led spiritual retreats, provided soul care workshops, and has trained small group and global outreach leaders. Her life mission is to partner with people finding greater life balance and holistic health. Find Brenda online and follow her on Instagram.