Change. It’s the one constant in life, yet it often feels like a storm that arrives unannounced, leaving us scrambling for shelter.

In this article, Dr Jo Mitchell from The Mind Room looks at the psychological tools used to navigate the storm of change. She explores how acknowledging, unpacking, and processing the emotions tied to change can help us create a new, more meaningful reality.

Whether it’s a sudden redundancy, a shift in a relationship, or a life-changing health diagnosis, change has the power to uproot our sense of self and leave us grappling for meaning. But what if we could learn to not only survive change, but to thrive through it?

As philosopher Alan Watts put it,

“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”

Navigating change is, indeed, a dance – not one that we can fully control, but one that we can learn to move with, gracefully and intentionally.

FACING THE DISRUPTION HEAD-ON

The first step in navigating change is to face it head-on; to acknowledge its impact and begin to make sense of what’s happened. Change, whether big or small, is inherently disruptive. It unsettles our routines, rattles our sense of stability, and often leaves us questioning what comes next. But before we can begin to rebuild, we need to fully understand the shape of the disruption – emotionally, mentally, and practically. Only then can we begin to move forward with clarity and intention.

Take Sophie, for example. On what seemed like a normal morning at work, an unexpected email landed in her inbox – her role was being made redundant. In a matter of seconds, her world shifted. It wasn’t just the loss of a job; it felt like the floor had dropped out from under her. Her security, her purpose, even her sense of self-worth; gone.

In the days that followed, Sophie was caught in a storm of shock and confusion. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think clearly, and certainly couldn’t imagine what came next. But eventually, something changed.

NAME THE CHANGE

When life throws us a curveball, our first instinct is often to react – fast and emotionally. We panic, deny, lash out, or scramble for quick fixes. Sophie easily could have gone down that road. She could have spiralled into anxiety, anger, or shut down entirely.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she paused. She took a breath and chose a different path. Rather than being swept away by emotion, Sophie named what was happening: “I have lost my job. I didn’t see it coming. This was not part of my life plan.”

It might seem like a small step, but it was a powerful one. Naming the change gave shape to the chaos. It drew a line between her and the uncertainty, allowing her to start seeing the situation more clearly.

In doing so, Sophie created space – not just to breathe, but to think. And in that space, something began to shift. Reaction gave way to reflection. Panic made room for perspective. It was the first step in moving from powerlessness to possibility.

IMPACT CHECK-IN

'Once we’ve named the change, the next step is to pause and reflect on its impact. This moment of stillness allows us to notice how the disruption is affecting us – emotionally, cognitively, and behaviourally. By taking the time to check in, we begin to make sense of what’s happening and gradually reclaim a sense of control.

When Sophie did her impact check-in, she uncovered a deep sense of betrayal and fear. Her mind was swirling with questions like, “Why is this happening to me?” and “How will I provide for my family?”. Her behaviour had shifted too – she withdrew from those around her, became more irritable, and lost her usual drive.

This kind of emotional turbulence is a natural part of navigating change. Left unchecked, it can trigger a ‘fight or flight’ response, pulling us into reactivity. But when we consciously name what we’re feeling, we create space to respond differently. Soothing strategies – like talking with a trusted friend, writing things down, or speaking with a therapist – can help us find calm. Sometimes, it’s as simple and powerful as self-compassion: recognising your own suffering and responding with the same kindness you’d offer a friend.

As the emotional storm settles, we’re better able to act with intention rather than impulse. From that steadier place, meaningful change becomes possible.

CONTROL THE CONTROLLABLE

Once the emotional impact of change has been acknowledged, the next step is to shift focus toward what we can influence. In times of disruption, one of the most grounding psychological principles is this: control the controllable.

It’s easy to get caught in loops of rumination – replaying the past, worrying about the future, or obsessing over decisions that lie in someone else’s hands. But this mental spiral consumes energy without offering relief. Instead, we can begin to reclaim our power by identifying what is within our sphere of control and taking small, deliberate actions.

For Sophie, this realisation marked a turning point. While she couldn’t undo the company’s decision to lay offstaff, she could choose how to respond. She reached out to her manager to clarify what the transition might look like. She updated her resume and began researching new opportunities. Each step, no matter how small, helped her reconnect with a sense of agency – anchoring her not in helplessness, but in possibility.

Taking action doesn’t mean pushing away pain or pretending everything is fine. It means making room for emotional discomfort while choosing to respond with intention rather than reactivity. There will be moments when simply sitting with your emotions is all you can do – and that’s okay. Emotions are messengers. They point to what matters, what’s been lost, or what needs protecting.

Sadness might signal that something meaningful is gone. Anger might reveal a boundary has been crossed. Fear might highlight uncertainty about what lies ahead. When we pause to listen, we begin to understand the values beneath the emotions.

But we also need to be mindful not to get stuck in the emotional mud – spinning in rumination or letting overwhelm take the wheel. This is where conscious action, however small, helps. A single step forward – updating your resume, making a phone call, going for a walk – can shift our state. When we move, we remind ourselves we’re not powerless.

Progress doesn’t need to be fast or perfect. When we choose to move forward, even gently, we begin to build momentum – and with that, a sense of possibility. And from possibility, hope grows.

FINDING A NEW REALITY

Once we’ve weathered the initial disruption and begun to steady ourselves, we enter the reconstruction phase of the transition. This is the slow, often uneven process of rebuilding – our routines, our confidence, our sense of who we are and where we’re going.

Reconstruction doesn’t mean returning to how things were. It’s about integrating the change into our story and moving forward with greater self-awareness. It’s a time to reconnect with our values, revisit old assumptions, and reimagine what’s possible. This phase asks us to be both reflective and creative – to clear the rubble and lay new foundations.

The process isn’t linear. We may cycle back through uncertainty or grief as new layers surface. But it’s in this in-between space that the transformation truly takes shape – from chaos to clarity, from fear to meaning, from disruption to direction.

This is where the magic happens. Not in a grand, sweeping way, but in small, steady moments: a conversation that sparks a new idea, a decision that realigns with your values, a quiet sense of strength returning. It’s the slow reawakening of purpose.

ACCEPTANCE AND SELF-COMPASSION

One of the hardest parts of navigating change is accepting the discomfort that comes with it. Change unsettles us. It pulls the rug out from under familiar routines and identities. And our instinct is often to resist – to long for things to go back to how they were, or to push the pain aside and power through.

But real growth doesn’t come from resistance. It comes from making space for the discomfort. From acknowledging that what we’re feeling is valid, even if it’s messy. Acceptance doesn’t mean we like what’s happening. It means we’re willing to be present with what is, rather than fighting a losing battle with what was.

As research on self-compassion by Neff and Germer1 shows, being kind to ourselves during times of hardship is not self-indulgent – it’s essential. Self-compassion gives us the strength to stay with the difficult emotions without becoming overwhelmed by them.

For Sophie, this looked like a gentle inner reminder:

“This is hard, and it’s okay to feel sad. I’m allowed to feel this way. What can I do to support myself right now?”

That shift – from self-criticism to selfkindness – helped her stop spiralling. Instead of judging herself for struggling, she began to soothe herself through it.

Self-compassion doesn’t remove the pain, but it eases our suffering. It steadies us when the ground is shaking and helps us move forward with grace, rather than grit alone.

CONNECT WITH YOUR VALUES

In times of upheaval, values become our compass. When the path ahead is unclear and familiar landmarks have disappeared, our values can guide us – not by giving us a map, but by helping us choose the direction that feels most meaningful.

Values are different from goals. Goals can be achieved and ticked off; values are enduring qualities that shape how we want to live, lead, and relate to others. They remind us of what truly matters when everything else feels uncertain.

For Sophie, the disruption of redundancy was disorienting at first. But as the emotional dust began to settle, she found clarity in reconnecting with her values: family, stability, and growth. She realised that it wasn’t just about finding another job – it was about building a life that allowed her to be present with her children, to feel secure, and to keep learning and developing.

By anchoring herself in these values, Sophie reframed the transition. What initially felt like a loss became an opportunity – a chance to realign her career with the life she actually wanted.

When we reconnect with our values, we shift from reacting to life to consciously designing it. Even amid uncertainty, values give us a sense of direction and purpose. They are the thread we can follow forward.

HOPEFUL ACTION

Hope isn’t just something we feel – it’s something we do. While emotions like fear or grief can feel immobilising, hope creates movement. And movement, even in small steps, is what begins to restore our sense of possibility.

Psychologist Dr Charles Snyder defines hope as the combination of agency (the belief that we can influence our future) and pathways (the ability to find ways forward). Hopeful people aren’t blindly optimistic – they’re practical.2 They take meaningful, values-aligned steps, even when the outcome isn’t guaranteed.

For Sophie, hopeful action meant re-engaging with her professional network, exploring training opportunities, and beginning her job search. These weren’t grand gestures – but they were intentional. Each step helped her reconnect with her values of growth and stability, and rebuild her sense of agency. The uncertainty didn’t disappear, but it no longer held all the power.

“Hope isn’t the absence of struggle; it’s choosing to keep moving toward what matters.”

Hopeful action is often quiet and steady, not flashy. It might look like reaching out for help, blocking time for something meaningful, or giving yourself permission to try again. What matters is not the size of the step, but the direction.

EMBRACING THE DANCE OF TRANSITION

Sophie’s journey reminds us that navigating change isn’t a ‘one and done’ task – it’s a process. Sometimes it’s graceful. Other times, it’s more like tripping over your own feet in the dark. But slowly, with reflection, support, and the occasional deep sigh, we learn to adapt. The intensity of change quiets, and we begin to find our footing again.

Transitions rarely follow a tidy script. They’re messy, non-linear, and wildly inconvenient. But they also crack us open to insight. They ask us to loosen our grip on what was, and gently (or not-so-gently) nudge us toward what could be.

As poet Bridgett Devoue wrote in her book Soft Thorns,

“We are only haunted by the things we refuse to accept.”

The truth is, discomfort is part of the ride. You can’t fast-forward through it or outsource it (though wouldn’t that be nice?). But you can learn to move with it. To pause, breathe, curse under your breath if you must, and then take one small, values-aligned step forward.

Because on the other side of upheaval is the chance to rebuild. Not perfectly, but authentically. Not the same, but more you.

So, if you’re in the middle of change – stand tall. Stay light on your feet. Be kind to yourself. Keep dancing. Reinvention rarely arrives with fanfare, but it has a funny way of showing up right when you’re ready to meet yourself again.

Dr Jo Mitchell is a clinical and coaching psychologist, and co-founder of The Mind Room – a Melbourne-based psychology community on a mission to help humans survive and thrive. With a PhD in human thriving, Dr Mitchell uses her expertise to turn psychological science into practical ideas and applications. When she’s not writing, speaking, or coaching, you’ll find her embracing aunty life, getting lost in nature, or road-testing her own wellbeing advice – mostly with good results.

References available at mivision.com.au.