Jump & Switch
On moving forward without the full road...and returning with more capacity
Some ideas don’t arrive because you’re searching.
They arrive because you’re finally available.
This morning, I opened Instagram without an agenda.
No plan to post.
No plan to consume.
Just a quick check-in with my coffee.
I wasn’t looking for anything specific.
And that’s when something found me.
An idea landed fully formed…not forced, not chased.
It was just there.
A golden idea that fits my world.
A companion to The Inner Reset.
Or maybe just a project.
I don’t even need to name it yet.
What mattered more was what happened next.
I recognized my pattern.
Jump and switch.
The jump is my top value at work: action.
I trust the moment when something feels alive and ready…even when I can’t see the full road ahead. I move because the energy is there, not because every step has been mapped.
The switch comes later.
The return.
The circling back.
The refinement.
The building upon.
Naming this felt like a small revelation…one I hadn’t seen clearly before, and one I wanted to share.
Jump and switch isn’t just how I act in a moment.
It’s how I think long-term.
I’ve always gone back to the beginning when relearning something.
Not because I missed it.
Not because I forgot.
Because I’m different when I return.
When I go back, I’m not re-doing. I’m gathering more context, more nuance, and more connections than were available to me the first time.
What once looked like backtracking and wasting time was actually forward motion.
The jump lets me move when inspiration buzzes through my body.
The switch lets me deepen, integrate, and future-proof what I’m building.
Together, they form a strategy that isn’t linear….but it is mine. And it feels intelligent.
Lately, inspiration feels everywhere.
In posts.
In conversations.
In ordinary moments.
Ideas arrive with what feels like zero effort.
Not because I’m trying harder,
but because something has opened me to seeing more deeply.
I’ve never had to hunt for ideas….but now I’m more attentive, more available, more willing to catch them as they pass through.
There’s awe in that.
And joy, too.
A sense of being in conversation with life instead of trying to extract something from it.
Every return strengthens the foundation.
Every revisit widens the field of use.
Nothing is wasted.
Going back isn’t regression.
It’s preparation.
And sometimes the smartest way forward
is to jump when the road isn’t visible….
and trust that when you switch back,
you can see far more than you ever could the first time.
All love,
Sue
Brilliant reframe on what looks like backtracking. That distinction between searching versus being available is subtle but huge, I've noticed the best insights tend to arrive when I'm not forcing them. The metaphor of return as gathering context rather than redoing work helps me see my own pattern differently. Reminds me how mch iterative processes actually build depth, not waste time.
Oh, the circle back! I love when I feel my capacity opening back up. I also love the feeling of tucking something away for later because I know the timing isn’t right. Beautiful post, Sue!