Letters to Viv: This Season Without a Map Still Knows Where It’s Taking You

A note for the wandering season, where nothing is clear and everything is possible.

Letters to Viv
Open, soul-packed letters to the kind of human I write for: the curious, creative, exhausted by the hustle, and craving something more. I’m writing to you (and me).

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Dear Viv,

I’m in that odd stretch of time where the air feels paused. You know the one.
Half-step forward. Half-step waiting. Like the universe asked me to walk in a direction, forgot to give me a map, then wandered off to make tea.

Some mornings I’m moving with purpose, like I know where I’m headed. Other mornings I feel like a woman pacing an empty platform, counting clouds for clues. I keep taking steps anyway. Into what, I haven’t a clue. The future feels like a room I haven’t opened yet. I’m rattling the door, hoping it’s not a broom cupboard.

There’s a strange beauty in it though.
A softness.
A quiet electricity in the air, like something is stretching awake even if I can’t see its shape yet.

I know you feel it too.
That push-pull.
That “will I, won’t I” energy of a life that’s shifting quietly under your feet.

It’s a weird thing, Viv. To want the next chapter without knowing the genre. To feel the momentum without the storyline. To walk into fog on purpose. Who does that? Eejits. Visionaries. Women who are bone tired of pretending they have a plan.

I’m learning to trust the feeling instead of the details. The energy instead of the pressure. You’d laugh if you saw me yesterday, standing in the kitchen, talking to my kettle like it had answers. I was waiting for a sign. The kettle hissed back at me like an old Irish auntie telling me to cop on.

Still, the message landed.

Keep moving, even if it’s small.
Keep anchoring, even if it’s quiet.
Keep choosing yourself, even if no one is clapping yet.

I think this weird in-between is where the magic gathers before it spills. The seed underground moment. The breath before the first line. The bit where nothing makes sense, so everything is possible.

So if you’re out there wandering too, wondering if the directionless direction is a mistake, let me tell you this straight.

You’re not lost, you’re responding, and your energy is rearranging itself into something that will make sense later.

You are becoming someone your future will thank.

Take your step.
Then take your pause.
Then take your next step.
Let it be messy. Let it be slow. Let it be yours.

I’m walking beside you. Two gobshites with intuition as our compass.
Not a bad way to travel.

XO,

Tanya

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