A week ago, I hit 'send' on the email to my editor, turning over my book for the final round of polishing.
It should have felt like triumph. Relief. A mountaintop moment after nearly five years of writing.
I’ve poured my soul into this project more than anything else I’ve done before.
Writing this book has shaped not just what I do, but who I am.
And yet, after sending it off...I felt oddly empty, aimless, off-kilter.
Have you ever felt this?
After the major race.
After the graduation.
After the big launch, wedding, or project you’ve been working on ends.
There’s a strange, quiet echo once the confetti settles and the spotlight fades.
Psychologists call this post-achievement letdown.
Once the brain's reward system comes down from the high of accomplishment, we experience a natural dip.
The structure that once held us is gone. The identity we borrowed from the project dissolves.
We're left with... ourselves. Raw. Unmoored. A little lost.
And maybe that's exactly where the real work begins.
My Book Was My Marathon
Every morning, I mentally laced up and hit the road. I trained hard—reading, researching, writing, rewriting, refining.
Morning writing became a rhythm, a scaffolding for my life. It gave shape to my days and a sense of momentum to my months.
But now? The race is over. The finish line I had been barreling towards was in the rearview mirror.
And I find myself waking up early not to write... but to wonder.
Now what?
My orientation point gone. My morning ritual vanished.
I’m left feeling the fertile silence, asking myself:
"Who am I when I’m not chasing the next goal?"
The Philosophy of the In-Between
Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once said:
"The self is a relation that relates itself to itself."
In other words, we are not the things we do. We are how we relate to the things we do—and how we relate to ourselves in their absence.
There's a deep invitation here:
To not rush into the next project.
To not immediately refill the space.
To linger in the "between."
But it’s hard. I want something else to give me that sense of progress.
I’m struggling to accept that the void left after crossing a big finish line isn't just empty space. It's open space.
Space to breathe. Space to reconnect with the parts of myself that I ignored to pursue the goal. (This Substack included!)
Space to start asking myself different questions:
Not "What should I work on next?" but "What parts of myself did I put on hold?"
Not "How do I get that high back?" but "What did achieving this teach me?”
Not “I need a new structure,” but “What is possible now that wasn’t possible before?”
The Same Pattern in Eating
I see this same strange emptiness after success with my clients. We think the challenge is hitting the goal—losing the weight, nailing the meal prep, or completing the 30-day challenge.
But what happens on day 31?
When the structure disappears and you're staring at the fridge at 9pm, wondering who decides what to eat now?
That's when the real inner work begins.
When the Strategic Eater who thrived on tracking and measuring suddenly goes quiet, who steps in?
Often it's the Pleasure Eater, reaching for familiar foods to fill the emotional void.
Or the Survival Eater, celebrating "freedom" from rules with a pendulum swing toward excess.
The questions become achingly familiar:
Can I trust myself when I'm not following a clear routine?
Can I live in the gray without rushing to fill it?
What am I actually hungry for now?
Pause Before the Next Sprint
So I ask you, friend—Have you just finished something big?
Have you felt that strange mix of pride and grief?
Are you sitting in the afterglow... or the after-void?
If so, take a breath.
I’m here with you.
There will be a time to move on, but the whispers of wisdom say, “Don't rush to fill the silence. Let the emptiness speak.”
New goals will come. There will be plenty to focus on.
The danger is rushing ahead, chasing achievement for achievement’s sake.
Instead, feel into the part of yourself that's emerging—the one that isn't defined by goals or external validation, but by presence and self-awareness.
Because it was never just about the book. Or the body. Or the business. Or the event. Or the project.
It is about who you are becoming in the process.
And now... here you are.
A few stepping stones further, facing a wider horizon than before.
A person In-formation.
Resting in the void.
~ Jeff