What happens after the fall? How to handle uncertainty without losing yourself

[WORLD] The systems that once provided us with job security, health benefits, education, and economic stability are slowly unraveling before our eyes. While inflation, layoffs, and political gridlock dominate the headlines, a quieter and more personal unraveling is taking place: the erosion of one’s sense of self.

Recent research in organizational psychology suggests that this loss of identity is particularly profound in industries undergoing rapid automation and restructuring. Workers who once found meaning in their specialized roles now face the unsettling reality of being both overworked and rendered obsolete, as technology and outsourcing redefine their value. This dissonance—between who we were in our roles and who the world now expects us to be—can leave individuals feeling adrift, searching for a sense of stability in a world that no longer supports them.

Whether it’s a leader grappling with a budget cut that decimates their mission, a new parent facing unexpected health challenges, or a mid-career professional watching years of meaningful work dissolve, these moments challenge something deeply foundational. The pain transcends the professional realm—it becomes existential.

The Pivot: What We Lose—and What We Might Gain

When the systems, roles, and routines we once relied upon fade away, what remains? How do we move forward when our usual coping mechanisms no longer serve us? This is not simply about responding to crisis—it’s about navigating a world that no longer fits the map we once knew. Imagine walking on solid ground, only to find yourself adrift in open water, surrounded by vast swells with no shoreline in sight. What tools do you have to stay afloat—and to find your way toward safety?

Neuroscience provides a potential answer: The brain’s plasticity means that periods of disorientation can also be prime opportunities for rewiring. Dr. Tara Swart, a neuroscientist and leadership coach, explains that the discomfort of uncertainty triggers the release of noradrenaline, a hormone that sharpens focus and primes the brain for adaptive learning. In essence, the very unease we seek to avoid may be the catalyst for the growth we desperately need.

This is where transformation begins—not in the first solution we grasp, but in our relationship to uncertainty itself. In the pause between the known and the unknown, real change becomes possible. It is within our vulnerability that the seeds of growth are sown.

The Latin root of “vulnerability” translates to “the ability to be wounded.” In nature, growth often occurs precisely during moments of greatest vulnerability. Young shoots, buds, and new leaves are delicate, exposed to the elements and predators, yet it is through this exposure that the plant's future is secured. Vulnerability is not weakness—it is an essential component of growth.

This biological reality mirrors cultural wisdom. Indigenous traditions, for example, often regard vulnerability as a path to collective resilience. The Maori concept of whakapapa, which highlights the interconnectedness of all life, teaches that strength comes not from isolation, but from recognizing our dependence on others and the environment. In modern terms, this encourages us to view personal upheaval as part of a larger, shared human experience.

Physician and author Gabor Maté expresses this beautifully: “When you’re powerful, you don’t have to be strong. You just let things happen... Power means you can handle things; you don’t have to control them.” In other words, true power lies in the ability to remain present and “response-able” even when faced with uncertainty or discomfort.

The Space Between: Living in the Unknown

When external structures such as funding, jobs, and titles disappear, deeper emotional layers often emerge: grief, self-doubt, shame, and a sense of disconnection from one’s self-worth.

For example, one client, after a sudden layoff, found himself questioning every decision: “I’m making bad decisions about my life and career.”

Another client, affected by shifting global aid priorities, expressed feeling invisible in the job market: “I can’t control the economy, only how I apply—but I don’t know what to do differently.”

These experiences expose a common misconception: that competence can shield us from instability. Yet research in positive psychology reveals that self-worth tied solely to achievement is fragile. Dr. Kristin Neff’s work on self-compassion highlights that treating oneself with kindness during failure—not criticism—can buffer against despair and foster the creativity needed to pivot.

In my work with individuals and teams, we don’t just explore what happened but how it feels—and what those feelings point to beneath the surface. Often, these experiences reawaken long-held beliefs or emotional patterns rooted in earlier life events.