On Seattle’s Eastside, you can feel the ground starting to shake. This isn’t the Big One we all worry about in the Northwest — but it still feels seismic.
It’s not in your imagination.
If you're feeling uneasy, it’s because the ground beneath you is shifting, your anchor is changing, and important parts of your identity are at risk.
Many of the people I work with are beginning to lose their footing.
Here on the Eastside, especially in tech-driven communities like Bellevue, professionals are caught between a career path they thought they could count on and a future that feels suddenly uncertain.
Fears of AI shaping work, culture, and identity started as whispers. Today these concerns are getting louder and more urgent as people bring their worry to my office.
Some have lives undone by unexpected layoffs. Those who remain employed are unmoored by constant rumors of the layoffs ahead.
There’s an eerie pressure to embrace the power of AI. Sold as ways to increase productivity, for many there’s a silent panic that these tools are less of an ally and more likely their replacement.
People talk about feeling caught off guard, powerless, and devalued. They wonder how a career they worked so hard to build can so quickly be dismantled. Once confident and competent, some now find themselves drifting and disoriented.
This isn’t just a vocational problem. Something in this has started to feel more personal — even existential.
Existential…
In some ways this is exactly the kind of moment my work was made for — finding meaning in uncertainty, using emotion as a guide, living in line with what matters most.
Yet, at times I can feel the ground shaking too.
I wrestle with fears of AI’s potential impact on me and the family I love. For my own work is this an ally, a danger, a replacement?
With all the worry and fear it’s easy to be hooked by a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings.
Our instinct is to either busy ourselves in an attempt to overwhelm our problems or shut down and hide as a way to avoid them.
Neither option enlists our own most powerful resources. In a flurry of activity or in a kind of numbing we stumble and slip, unable to access the solutions we already have within us.
As we lose our footing, we lose ourselves.
But — if we can slow down, just enough, and courageously and compassionately observe our own experience, something returns to us.
We’re able to come back to ourselves, even for a moment.
And maybe a moment is all it takes.
I turn to the nineteenth century Danish philosopher who said it best:
To dare is to lose one’s footing momentarily. Not to dare is to lose oneself.
— Soren Kierkeggard.
In the face of seismic changes, surprisingly, the answer is not to duck and cover.
The answer is to be willing to risk and to dare — and to do it, momentarily.
I know this can feel pretty scary. When your livelihood is in jeopardy it’s hard to think about anything else.
But alongside the risk of job loss there’s an even greater risk — loss of self.
So when the ground feels unsteady, I invite you to pause.
Notice the mind’s tendency to wander to unhelpful places.
Notice and then come gently back to this moment.
Find yourself again by being more intentional about who you are and about how you want to be.
When abrupt change feels unbearable, focus on your response — a response linked to what matters to you most: the character you want to embody, the people you love, the causes you support, a faith you follow.
Then with courage and commitment be willing to risk and to dare to move in these valued directions, momentarily — that is, one moment at a time.
The cost of avoiding yourself, and your ability to respond, is high. In search of a fleeting comfort that doesn't last, you’ll lose connection with what’s most vital to you.
Instead of escaping or shutting down — find small, brave moments to dare to be more of who you are, losing footing at times, but not falling.
You’ll gain something far more precious in the process.
The work of therapy is to find that bright and steady part of you, allowing you to stay grounded, even on uncertain ground.
I’d be happy to talk with you about how we might work together — helping you find your footing and a new way forward.