Home Is Where You Hang Your Allen Key
On Transitions, Flat Pack Furniture, and the Magic of Mundane Moments
Well, hello from Malaysia! If you read June's newsletter, you'll know I was deep in denial about this move (leaving Shanghai after five years) while simultaneously cooking up the remaining cans of chickpeas, leftover rice, and my feelings.
Seems like an age ago!
Because here I am, writing from my brand-new home office (complete with a battle scar on my finger from assembling the flat-pack desk I'm now sat at – seriously, I've never felt so white-collar with my baby-soft hands).
Like all major relocations, it's been a month of firsts: first time living somewhere with perpetual summer, first time in five years of having to leave the house to go grocery shopping, and definitely the first time I've appreciated just how much my nervous system craves normalcy, routine, and stirring baked beans.
Hotel Life Isn't All It's Cracked Up to Be
When we first arrived, my husband's school put us up in a beautiful hotel whilst we looked for somewhere to live. Two weeks in a hotel sounds luxurious, doesn't it? Let me tell you, when you're not actually on holiday and you're sharing one bathroom and one living/sleeping space with your family while trying to work, and parent – it's tough. I spent nearly a month in hotel confinement during lockdown, and yet, I knew I was going home at the end of it. This time, what laid beyond the two-week stay was all unknown, a little stressful and (as always) way more bureaucratic than you want it to be.
Alas, that is all a distant memory at this point anyway. We're in our 'digs' and slowly but surely finding homes for our knick-knacks. I have been reunited with my favorite coffee mug again and can cook a proper meal (where I'm from, a jacket potato with beans and cheese is a proper meal). Who knew that the simple act of chopping vegetables, grating cheese or making a brew in your own kitchen could feel so grounding?
The Thing About Transitions...
...is that they strip away all your familiar rhythms and routines – the very things that, without realizing it, keep you anchored. You're in this weird kind of limbo land, trapped physically, emotionally, and mentally in this grey space. In Shanghai, I had my favourite coffee shops, my predictable morning activities, my running route, my hairdresser, my apps. Every day in a new country is chipping away at finding a new normal.
This month, I've been thinking a lot about seasons and transitions — not just the weather kind, but the life kind. We're all constantly moving through different seasons: new roles, new challenges, kids growing up, parents aging, careers shifting, friendships changing. And yet, there seems to be this societal expectation to be doing that constantly. "If you're not changing, you're not growing." But my gosh, that's exhausting. Right now, I'm longing for stability and the mundane, the familiar and the predictable. I don't need to strive and stride at the moment; I need to find my groove, my signature move, my repeatable steps.
Finding Your Footing
If this is you right now, here are some things I've been practicing to help steady the ship:
3 Ways to Find Your Rhythm During a Transition Period
Start ridiculously small
My first week here, I committed to continuing to run. Not far, not to improve, just to shake out the legs and explore the streets. Being able to maintain a running routine added some control back and gave me much-needed alone time.
Embrace the temporary discomfort
Two weeks of hotel living taught me that you can survive pretty much anything if you know it has an end date. The key word is temporary – hotel bathrooms, missing your favorite coffee mug, not knowing where anything is. It's all temporary. The mistake is treating temporary discomfort like permanent disaster and exhausting yourself fighting something that's already going to change.
Create micro-moments of familiar
I brought my favorite tea with me (priorities, people) and a tub of chia seeds, and those first few mornings of a familiar brew and a chia seed pudding in an unfamiliar place were surprisingly comforting. What small thing can you carry with you through your transitions?
What Stays the Same
The beautiful thing about this move is that while everything external has changed, the core of what I do — supporting leaders, writing these slightly oversharing newsletters, getting excited about professional development — remains the same.
Geography might shift, seasons might disappear entirely (still processing this), but purpose travels well.
And even if it didn't, by the time you're reading this, I'll be back on China soil doing my thing for a week of projects anyway. 🙂
So if you're in your own season of transition — whether that's a new role, a challenging project, or just trying to figure out what comes next... I see you... keep going.
Take a moment this month to reflect:
What season are you in right now?
What small rhythm could you create to anchor yourself?
How can you embrace the temporary discomfort while building something new?
Here's to new seasons, successful flat pack assembly, and the radical act of making a life wherever you land.
Warmly (very warmly thanks to the humidity),
Claire
P.S. The good news about perpetual summer? My vitamin D levels are about to be legendary for the first time in a decade. The bad news? I'm already thinking about how much I'll miss autumn leaves and knitwear.