The Absurd Leap

What do we do when the old story doesn’t fit and the new one hasn’t shown up yet?

“Faith is the leap into the absurd—where you believe in spite of not understanding.”
—Søren Kierkegaard

We talk a lot about finding your calling.
But what if you know—deep in your bones—that the story you’re living isn’t right…
and you still have no idea what the new story is?

That’s where the leap comes in.
And it almost always feels absurd.

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The phrase “leap of faith” gets tossed around a lot.
We use it for everything from marriage proposals to quitting jobs to launching startups.

But the original idea wasn’t so casual.

It came from a moody Danish philosopher named Søren Kierkegaard—basically the godfather of existentialism.

He said something most religious folks at the time didn’t want to hear:
Faith is not certainty.
It’s what happens when you’ve run out of certainty and still choose to move forward.

Kierkegaard pointed to Abraham—the moment he walked up a mountain, fully prepared to sacrifice his son because he believed that somehow, beyond all reason, there was meaning in it.

He called it “a leap into the absurd.”

It wasn’t logical.
It wasn’t explainable.
It was honest.

And that’s the part we tend to forget.

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We’ve been told that you should only leap when you’re sure.

But in real life, most leaps don’t come from confidence.
They come from exhaustion with our old story.
They come from the quiet conviction that staying stuck would cost more than moving forward ever could.

At some point, your three-year plan stops helping.
Your pros and cons list doesn’t tell the whole truth.

And you’re left with a choice:

Do I keep living a story that’s clearly over—just because it’s familiar?

It’s not working.
It’s not good.
It’s done.

And sometimes, the hardest part is this:
You don’t have a new story yet.
You just know this one can’t keep going.

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That’s the in-between.
The liminal space.
No map. No clarity. No guarantees.

Just a growing ache for something truer.

And here’s where most people freeze.
They stall. They second-guess. They wait for a sign or a plan or a perfect peace that never arrives.

But at some point—if the new story still hasn’t revealed itself—
you may have to leap anyway.

Not toward something shiny and clear.
Just away from what you know you can’t keep doing.

That’s the absurd part.
You jump without a destination.
And sometimes, it’s in the free fall after the leap that clarity finally comes.

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Sometimes, when you're waiting for perfect peace before you move—
You're not looking for courage.
You're looking for certainty.

And those are not the same thing.

So here’s the truth:

It’s okay to hang out in the in-between for a while.
Ask your questions.
Test a few paths.
Get curious.
Grieve.
Heal.

But if the answers aren’t coming…
If the next story isn’t writing itself…

You might just need to leap anyway.

Not toward something mapped out.
Not into some shiny new identity.
Just away from what’s already over.

Absurd?
Sure.

But sometimes, that’s the only way a great story starts.