What Will You Find at the Crossroads?
How I've worked to turn a crisis into the next stage of growth.
Last December, in a span of just a few weeks I experienced a run of professional disappointments that sent me reeling. Individually, most were no big deal, but falling like dominoes as they did, it felt like a bad omen. My carefully constructed, steady-as-she-goes writer’s life suddenly felt imperiled.
I had never faced a situation like this in a forty-year career, and it was easy to catastrophize: who am I if no one wants my work anymore? I know, this verged on melodrama, but that’s how deeply my sense of self was wrapped up in my professional persona.
My “wise mind” understood that there was a reason for this crisis, a message for me, and that with faith, time, and effort, I’d emerge stronger. In today’s Substack I’m sharing the stages I’ve gone through over the past five months to accept the gifts of this transition and recalibrate. Throughout our lives we can face sudden threats to our comfortable status quo, personally or professionally. I hope my story will be helpful to you or someone you know going through similar challenges.
Stage 1: Embrace the pause, meet friends for lunch, and eat ice cream (not too much)
Before finding my footing again, I understood I had to allow myself to grieve over lost opportunities and fears of other such losses to come. I didn't try to "fix" the situation right away. Instead, I accepted the luxury of less structured time. I halfheartedly organized my office, bursting into tears several time (and not because of the mess, either). I ate more ice cream, but at least I also went to more yoga classes and took long walks. Both the ice cream (chocolate mint chip and chocolate mousse, combined) and the exercise boosted my mood.
I met a writer friend for lunch—something I virtually never do—and was buoyed by her company. She also shared ideas about potential new writing outlets and recommended a fabulous book, Transitions: Making Sense of Life's Changes, by William Bridges, PhD. Bridges emphasizes that life transitions involve a natural process of disorientation and reorientation, marking turning points in the path of growth. I sure had the disorientation down solidly, and was reassured by the author’s philosophy that after acknowledging what was happening, I could also achieve reorientation and growth.
Meanwhile, I had time to help people in need. It was healthy to take the spotlight off myself and instead bring meals, take someone to doctor's appointments (including an ER visit), and fly to Dallas to help our daughter recover from an illness. These actions filled me with a sense of purpose and gratitude that I was here, healthy, and able to help.
Stage 2: Face hard truths
An easy realization during those few weeks was that I had gotten too comfortable in my writing routine and expectations of where steady work would come from. I had given up on certain major media outlets that had once been buyers of my work but had stopped. However, against the backdrop of the AI revolution and pressures throughout the media landscape, I could not afford either passivity or stagnation. To stay fresh and relevant, I would have to seek new opportunities and think differently.
Stage 3: Expand connections
I joined or rejoined a few journalists' organizations, reconnecting with some colleagues from the past and meeting others for the first time. I discovered a few new markets and took some Zoom lessons on marketing strategies. I paid to consult with book industry experts, who reassured me that what I was experiencing was typical for authors at this time while also suggesting new approaches to promote my memoir, Bylines and Blessings, a book I am very proud of and which was published at an exceptionally difficult time for Jewish authors. They assured me that it was still early days since the book’s publication (though it hardly seemed so to me) and to keep plugging away.

Stage 4: Go bold and experiment creatively
These first stages lifted me from my doldrums and inspired me to experiment with my writing style. I began writing "flash" pieces, a popular style in both fiction and non-fiction characterized by very short word limits. My Jewish Journal columns are already a tight 700 words, but slicing more dramatically—to 400 or 500 words—revealed the power of sharply compressed writing. I submitted flash pieces to two outlets, and while one was rejected (with compliments on the writing), I knew the piece was good and had felt invigorated by the challenge. I took the rejected piece and added about 150 words. You can read the results, Light from Within, here. My other submission is still under consideration, and I’ve targeted several other new media outlets to try. I am choosing boldness over passivity.
Stage 5: Make a strategic change
As William Bridges also wrote in Transitions, all beginnings need to start with endings. After consulting with a life coach, I decided to let go of—tactically and psychologically—a particular kind of writing assignment I enjoyed but had to conclude was no longer worth my time. In that conversation, I also was encouraged to build my editing business and rebrand my website from emphasizing my writing work to emphasizing my editing services.
I am dedicated to editing books for clients. Some of my proudest professional achievements are not my own writing but editing I have done for other authors with important messages to convey. I enjoy helping people get their messages across in their voice, clearly, with an eye toward the reader’s experience. To further my goal, I took a course on how to build this kind of business, and my website is currently being retooled to better explain my services. I'm ignoring Instagram (which I never felt was right for me) and sharing more insights about the writing process on LinkedIn.
Stage 6: Embrace optimism
Being proactive gave me a feeling of forward momentum, optimism, and creative renewal. I don’t know where it will all lead but I’m too busy to worry about it. I no longer pine for what was lost and remain focused on what could be. But already I see payoffs: a favorite client returned for more edits on his book manuscript, and to my relief, the piece of my regular writing business I worried most about losing was not lost after all.
In the book Transitions, author Bridges explains "the difference between a change and a transition is that changes are driven to reach a goal, but transitions start with letting go of what no longer fits or is adequate to the life stage you are in. . . . the transition begins with letting go of something that you have believed or assumed, some way you've always been or seen yourself, some outlook on the world or attitude toward others."
My transition may not seem to outsiders to be dramatic: I was a writer and editor and still am a writer and editor. But to me it was huge, because in anticipating losing my work to market forces and technology, I feared losing an essential piece of myself.
Finally, a lesson from the garden
Last week we noticed that our potted geranium on the front porch appeared half dead. We instructed the gardener to get rid of it and bring us a new one. He didn’t. Instead, he gave it a severe crew cut. It looked worse for a few days, but then it began sprouting healthy new leaves and flowers.
First endings, then beginnings. Pruning away old branches, leaves, and sometimes, thought processes, paves the way for new growth. Over the past five months I went from fear and anxiety and through phases of acceptance, research, discovery, and renewed creative energy and productivity. It was a truly difficult process and I’m grateful to be on the other side of it now—cautiously optimistic about where it will lead.
Have you faced a professional transition recently? I'd love to hear about your experience in the comments below. And if you found this column helpful, please consider sharing it with someone who might benefit from it.
Beautifully written piece with such helpful advice.
When I felt down because of article rejections, I focused on helping other for awhile and began writing again with a clear, positive attitude!
Judy, I wish you much Hatzlacha going forward. Also, thank you so much for your truly powerful piece about candle lighting!