There is never a ‘completely ready,’ there is never a really ‘right time.’”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves Tweet
You know you have to do it. Every cell in your body is telling you. It’s the first thought on waking and then it follows you around as you go about your day.
The job has to go. That conversation has to happen. The relationship is over or perhaps a decision needs to be made.
Something has to change.
But you don’t do it.
Instead, you’ve made a list.
You’ve researched. Planned. Thought about it some more. Maybe you’ve listened to the podcast, bought the book, deep cleaned the bathroom, had a makeover and found seventeen perfectly reasonable explanations for why now isn’t quite the right time.
You’ve made staying stuck look remarkably productive.
And yet, as Estés reminds us, there may never be a completely right time.
So what are you waiting for?
The space before the leap
The space before the leap isn’t somewhere to live forever.
At some point, understanding has to become action.
You may still be frightened. You may still have doubts. You may not know exactly how everything will work out.
That’s rather the point.
“There is never a ‘completely ready,’ there is never a really ‘right time.’”
Waiting for certainty can become another way of staying exactly where you are.
The work is to know yourself well enough to recognise the difference between a genuine reason to wait and an old fear asking you to stay somewhere familiar.
And then to choose.
Not what you’ve always done.
Not what everyone expects.
Not what feels safest simply because you know it.
But what matters to you now.
Perhaps courage isn’t feeling ready before you leap.
Perhaps it’s knowing you may never feel completely ready — and deciding that what lies on the other side matters enough to move anyway.
So, if you already know you can’t stay where you are, what is the space before the leap asking you to face?
What once kept you safe might now be keeping you stuck
That voice telling you not to risk it didn’t appear from nowhere.
Neither did the need to get it right. To keep everyone happy. To be useful. To avoid disappointing people. To know exactly how things will turn out before you begin.
You learned those behaviours for a reason.
At some point, they worked. They helped you fit in, gain approval, avoid criticism or feel safe.
And because they worked, you kept using them.
The problem is, a behaviour that protected you when you were eight, eighteen or twenty-eight doesn’t necessarily serve the person you are today.
What once kept you safe might now be keeping you stuck.
That’s the inner work of coaching.
Not judging yourself for those behaviours or trying to become a completely different person.
It’s recognising them for what they are: learned responses that once had a purpose.
Then asking whether you still need them.
Because there’s a big difference between “I can’t do this” and “I’ve learned to believe I shouldn’t do this.”
And once you can see the difference, you have a choice.
The leap
Eventually, understanding has to become action.
You may still be frightened. You may still have doubts. You may not know exactly how everything will work out.
You may never feel completely ready.
As Clarissa Pinkola Estés writes:
“There is never a ‘completely ready,’ there is never a really ‘right time.’”
Perhaps taking the leap isn’t about waiting until the fear disappears.
Perhaps it’s understanding why the fear is there, recognising what it’s trying to protect you from, and deciding it doesn’t get to make the decision.
So, if you already know you can’t stay where you are, what is the space before the leap asking you to face?





