IS THIS YOUR 'TRAPEZE MOMENT'? Release the Death Grip On Your Current Bar

By Leslie Rohonczy, IMC™, PCC

Executive Coach | Leadership Development Expert | Author | Speaker | ©2026 | www.leslierohonczy.com

  

Most of us can picture the glamour and excitement of a trapeze act: the elegant swing, the release and heart-pounding flight through the air, the satisfying grab onto the new trapeze bar, followed by thundering applause. But hold the phone… what about that awkward, slightly terrifying bit in between? The part where the flyer has released their grip on the trapeze bar and, for what feels like forever, is suspended in open air with no connection to anything solid. It’s a hold-your-breath, hope-your-timing-is-good, please-let-this-work kind of moment.

It can feel safer to keep swinging on the same bar we already know. Real change shows up in that split second when we decide to let go and hurtle through the air toward something we can’t yet grab.

If we’ve ever found ourselves staring at our work and thinking, “I can’t keep doing this,” while also having no tidy answer for what comes next, we’re likely there. It doesn’t arrive with fireworks or a perfectly drafted resignation letter. It tends to show up in far less cinematic ways, more like a persistent signal that something no longer fits, like a favourite jacket that used to fit perfectly and now sits just a bit off, no matter how many times we try to adjust it.

 

WHEN EVERYTHING LOOKS FINE BUT ISN'T

I was coaching a leader recently who had built a strong and credible career over many years. If we were looking for someone who was steady, thoughtful, dependable, respected, capable, and a great people person, he’d be at the top of the list.

From the outside, everything looked… fine. Solid, even. No crisis to solve; no burning platform. No one tapping us on the shoulder saying, “You know what, now would be a great time to blow all this up and see what happens.”

Internally, though, the story was different. He knew, deep down in that ‘knowing place’ we all have, that he needed a change. But the problem was that he couldn’t clearly articulate what he wanted next. There was no neat plan or polished narrative about a bold new chapter. What he did have was a growing awareness that his current situation no longer fit him in the way it once had, and that awareness was only going to become more inconvenient and uncomfortable. So he stayed, gripping tightly to something that had stopped feeling right.

We tend to celebrate decisive moves, promotions, and bold pivots that look great in hindsight. We applaud the hero’s journey once the arc is clear and the ending makes sense. What we tend to skip over is the long, ambiguous stretch in between, when we know it’s time for something different but can’t yet name what that something is without sounding like we’re just making sh*t up as we go.

For many of us, when we find ourselves in that space, we do what we’ve always done well: we use our big brains to analyze and rationalize, believing that we can think our way out of our discomfort. We reflect, analyze, crunch the data, gather perspectives, read articles like this one, and generate insight after insight. It feels productive, and to be fair, it can be helpful as a starting point, but it isn’t a plan of action. Then we pause, often for reasons that sound responsible and strategic in the moment. We wait for a clearer signal, collect a bit more data, and tell ourselves timing matters. All of that can be true, and it also gives us a very comfortable place to remain when things feel uncertain.

Over time, a pattern starts to take shape. Insight leads to hesitation. Hesitation leads to retreat. Retreat leads back to reflection. Around and around we go, often with more sophisticated language each time and less actual movement.

 

INSIGHT IS CHEAP. EMBODIMENT IS EXPENSIVE

Insight is cheap. Acting on it is what costs us the most, in time, resources, energy, and focus. Think about it this way: we can generate insight by having a conversation, writing a journal entry, or taking a reflective moment to process. These insight-generation acts give us language, perspective, and the sense that we’re getting somewhere, and bonus, it doesn’t require us to change anything yet. What costs us is the moment we decide to act on what we already know to be true.

It might show up as saying the thing we’ve been rehearsing in our heads for months, stepping away from a role we’ve outgrown, or loosening our grip on an identity that no longer fits. These are familiar comforts, and they keep our hands firmly wrapped around the current trapeze bar. And this is where we tend to stall, not because we don’t understand what’s happening, but because acting on that understanding has consequences.

 

THE MYTH OF READINESS

There’s a psychological layer worth naming. Research in behavioural economics, including the work of Daniel Kahneman, shows that we experience potential losses more strongly than equivalent gains. Leaving a familiar role or identity can feel like a real loss, even thought it doesn't fit anymore, and even when we can see the possibility of a new trapeze bar dangling up ahead. From that perspective, staying can feel entirely reasonable. It will also keep us exactly where we are.

Then readiness enters the picture. We assume that at some point in the future, we’ll feel clear, certain, and fully prepared to make a big move. In practice, that feeling rarely shows up in advance. More often, we move first, and then tell ourselves, “I guess I was ready after all.” At the time, it feels more like uncertainty, discomfort, and a slightly unsettling level of exposure, paired with a decision to move anyway.

Which brings us back to the trapeze metaphor, and to a line from a song I wrote called Trapeze, inspired by this exact moment:

Reaching out into the mist you close your eyes

That’s when you discover you can fly

 That’s the reality of it. We don’t reach the next bar by stretching harder while holding on to our current one. The transition becomes possible when we release our grip, even though the next bar isn’t yet in our hands.

 

THE COST OF STAYING

First, let's look at what we are holding onto. Maybe it's a role that we’ve mastered, a reputation we’ve earned, or an identity that’s been reinforced over years. All that effort, discipline, and contribution we put in over time is precisely what can take up the exact space we'll need to reach for something new. The longer we hold the old bar, the harder it becomes to loosen our grip and engage with what comes next; not because the opportunity disappears, but because our hands are already full.

When clarity is missing, we often try to create it before we move, as if the perfect plan will make everything obvious. In moments like this, honesty tends to be more useful. Honesty about what no longer fits, even if we can’t yet name what would fit better. Honesty about what we’re tolerating, and why. Honesty about what we’re concerned about losing if we let go. Honesty about that whisper of yearning for something different for ourselves.

 

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Find a quiet place where you won't be disturbed for about 20 minutes. Take a few deep breaths, allow yourself to relax, and fully arrive to this practice.

Listen to the recording of Trapeze here: https://youtu.be/6q_4Tj4nbqg (you can follow along with the lyrics below the video.)

Now consider your own career and what might be calling you toward a new bar. Answer the following questions in your journal:

  • Where are you feeling that pull of something that’s asking more of you right now, even if it’s not fully formed?

  • What has started to feel too small, too tight, or simply no longer yours?

  • When you imagine letting go, what part of that feels energizing, and what part of that feels uncertain or exposed?

  • What are you holding onto that still works, and what does it give you that makes it hard to release?

  • And what could you loosen your grip on (not necessarily a total release), that could help you take a first step in that direction?

If you're experiencing this in-between moment, or are hurtling through that untethered space between bars, this is exactly the kind of transition I can help you navigate in executive coaching. If you'd like to build your capacity to leap while things are still unfolding, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.