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The first time I saw a spirit level was during my Sophomore year in college. My roommate was putting photos up on her wall, and she wanted to make sure they were perfectly straight. To do so, she enlisted the help of this handy tool.

A spirit level is a tool used to indicate how parallel, or level, a surface is relative to the earth. It’s commonly used by carpenters, bricklayers, or photographers. The instrument is made from a small glass tube containing a colored spirit or alcohol and an air bubble trapped inside.

As my roommate hung up her frames, I was delighted by how simple, yet functional, the spirit level was. The slightest dip off center sent the little bubble sliding to one side or the other, far away from the lines that marked center. It was only when you held the tool perfectly parallel to the floor did the bubble rest between two lines that indicated you were level to the ground beneath you. When the bubble reached this point, you knew your pictures were aligned at 180 degrees. You made it.

While I never used the spirit level again, the image stuck with me years after graduating from college. Today, when I visualize what my inner barometer might look like, this instrument comes to mind. How many times have I felt like the little air bubble–sliding from left to right, falling off center, and recalibrating?

If only external circumstances and the inner world were as easy to control or manipulate as this instrument.

In moments of transition, when life shifts me one way or another, I am most aware of how my inner spirit level swings. Most recently, this has manifested as I transition into a new job. Having moved around so much growing up, I like to think that I check off the job-description boxes of possessing a “roll-your sleeves up attitude” and thriving despite “ambiguity.” Yet beyond the thrill of a new career step, the transition has not been easy.

My first few weeks in my new role have been full of learning, but they have also been punctuated by moments of humbling self-doubt and insecurity. Some days I am energized by observing a new social dynamic; some days I am utterly exhausted. In this process, I’m confronting the fact that unlike the spirit level, I can’t control my external circumstances around me. I can’t force mastery of new processes or camaraderie with new colleagues; I can’t tilt things left or right to land in the middle with mathematical precision.

In contrast to my desire to control, I have to accept that I will inevitably fluctuate from left to right, pause in the middle, and slide all the way back to one end again. I have to let go of the idea that my world is a contained vial of colored spirit. Instead, I’d like to explore the possibility of occupying the full spectrum of this transition with an element of curiosity.

I realize now that despite how straight my roommate’s photos hung, they too, shifted over time. She would inevitably have to give them a nudge, take them off the wall, and try again.

Perhaps in the end, the beauty of the spirit level wasn’t in finding center and staying there. Instead, it was invented as an instrument to help us course correct whenever we need it

Perfect equilibrium is not about static or “perfect” at all. It is actually a dynamic state of constant adjustment. So is the glitchy and uncomfortable process of this transition and beyond. While it does not come naturally to me, maybe it’s time to loosen the grip of my inner spirit level, and trust that it’s a handy tool that helps me shift back to center as I keep changing and growing through different stages of life.