Transitions don’t get a lot of love from us. Moments going from one place to another, blurred days spent looking for a home, a job, a goal.

Transitions don’t make for great stories, we think; they’re too grey, too uncertain. We prefer completion, victories, conclusions. Looking back at what was done, and what is now secured.

But a lot of life happens in between. In between places, in between phases. A lot of life is spent working towards, planning for, looking forward.

I’ve spent a lot of time in between lately. Between two homes – slowly moving from one life to another. And I’ve hated the transition. Complained profusely, cried frequently. Exhausted myself in trains, in cars, on bikes, running from one place to another, my bag always ready, my mind never at peace.

And yet. That transition saw me grow like never before. I’ve learned – and learned to like it. With every transition comes an infinite range of possibilities, of discoveries, of new beginnings. And how often can you say that of your daily life? How often is the world truly your oyster?

So I’ve learned to like the blurred lines. I’ve learned to read them, cross them and move forward.