The Transformation Cycle: Square 2
I recently finished The Correspondent, a beautiful novel that unfolds through letters. When I reached the final page, I felt both accomplished and quietly bereft. Have you ever finished a book and felt that way? That strange mix of completion and longing is exactly where I find myself now.
There’s satisfaction in reaching the final page, and grief too. You can’t return to the not-knowing—to the way the story once stretched endlessly ahead of you. Even as you’re glad to be done, part of you wishes there were more pages to turn, more to discover, more room for the story to keep unfolding. But it can’t. That story is complete. So your only choice is to look for the next book.
For me, this is a fitting metaphor for Square 2.
In my last post, I wrote about Square 1: The moment when a catalytic event arrives, and the life you knew exists no longer. It is the great fall. The great undoing. The great unravel. When this happens, the only way through is in five-minute increments, wrapped in warm blankets, anchored in presence, letting yourself feel everything. Square 1 is total immersion. It is all-consuming, and it should be. The ground is shaky. Certainty is gone.
Much like being lost in a novel, there is a peeling back of layers, a digging deeper page by page. The world around you fades. The story takes over.
But eventually, the novel ends.
There comes a moment when there is nothing left to solve, no more plot twists to uncover. You’ve felt the feelings. You close the book and begin to lift your eyes. The world comes back into focus, and something in you has shifted. You carry new perspectives now—lessons you didn’t have before. You begin to wonder how the story changed you, what parts of it belong to you, and which ones you’ll leave behind.
You don’t yet know what comes next. But you’re no longer buried in the pages. You’re looking up. You’re imagining. You’re dreaming, maybe even scheming about how you might move forward with this new way of seeing.
This is Square 2.
I can always tell when my clients are beginning to emerge by a few subtle cues. They arrive at a session with a different background behind them on Zoom, a new haircut, or a shiny new outfit. Square 2 isn’t a line in the sand; it’s a quiet shift toward evolution. We begin to try on who this new version of ourselves might be—how it looks, how it feels, how it moves through the world, and how we identify.
In Square 1, we move slowly and take tiny steps. In Square 2, we remain inwardly focused but begin taking larger steps toward a new reality. Our attention shifts from what is happening solely in our hearts to what is unfolding around us. When we enter Square 2 in a healthy way, our emotions move into the passenger seat, and curiosity takes the wheel. You feel interested again—alive. You start to imagine what could be.
This is when you research. You meet friends for coffee and talk through your next career move, write your online dating profile, or think about the paint color you want in your new home. You begin planting seeds everywhere. Square 2 is springtime. There’s a lightness in the air, and often a new bounce in your step.
After a major life change, there comes a moment when you slowly begin to feel alive again. Before leaping into action, there’s a necessary pause to think things through—and that’s exactly what Square 2 is for. With that in mind, here are a few gentle recommendations:
Create a vision board. With the New Year upon us, this is a powerful time to envision what you want moving forward.
Do your research. Let curiosity lead without pressure to decide everything at once.
Explore the next iteration of yourself. Get a haircut, rearrange your furniture, try a new activity, or make new friends.
Create a plan. Not a rigid one—just a thoughtful outline of what feels possible.
Once your vision begins to take shape and a plan is in place, you’re ready for Square 3.