Frozen in place

You’ve probably heard: It’s been a frigid winter in the northeastern U.S.

My dog is not pleased.

She’s a Southern California native. The New England smells she’s come to appreciate have been snuffed out by snow and ice. Worst of all, the road salt hurts her paws.

After a few minutes of walking outside, she starts methodically lifting one paw at a time, seeking relief from the pain. When I call her to come inside, she won’t move. She’s frozen in place.

The situation reminds me of how us humans approach transitions.

You understand change is necessary. It’s time to…

…switch the job.
…start the company.
…write the book.
…fire the client.
…leave the relationship.
…have the conversation.
…drop the story.
…run the experiment.
…take the leap.
…reveal the secret.

And yet, you’re frozen.

You haven’t warmed up to the idea that there are no guarantees on the other side of change. Standing in the familiar, no matter how painful, beats venturing into the unknown. At least you know what to expect.

When I catch my dog in her freeze response, I pick her up and carry her inside. She’s hurting. It’s not the time to insist she follow my commands.

I’m guessing you’re less forgiving with yourself.

When you know change is necessary but your nervous system hasn’t quite caught up, it’s frustrating.

Feeling caught between these two states, you might judge yourself for delaying action. You might criticize the people around you. You might blame your circumstances.

None of this is helpful. Although it may feel like part of “figuring it out,” rumination just perpetuates the freeze response. It’s time to let things thaw.

Where in your life are you frozen—stuck between knowing what you need to do and feeling scared to take action?

Instead of beating yourself up or repeating the same strategies and hoping for a different result, try putting aside the big change (temporarily) to focus on carrying yourself to warmer ground. This could look like…

…confiding in someone.
…eating a comforting meal.
…asking for help.
…making art.
…going for a walk.
…giving someone a hug.
…listening to music.
…taking a bath.
…cuddling with your pet.
…doing anything you enjoy.

Biting off more than you’re ready to chew is overwhelming and self-defeating. And trying to make significant change from a place of fear, shame, or blame is unfulfilling and ineffective.

Before you do the thing, check in: Could you chunk this down even further? Could you let yourself warm up a bit first?

Providence, RI
February 2026