𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

“𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒋𝒐𝒚.” — 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒘 𝟐:𝟏𝟎

Winter in New Jersey has been brutal these past few weeks—temperatures in the low 20s have driven this cyclist indoors. So, on Sunday after Mass, I hopped on my Peloton, and as often happens when my body is moving, I found myself in deep reflection, this time on the story of the three Magi, the Gospel reading for the Feast of the Epiphany.

Their story seems especially relevant with the dawn of a new year as we turn our attention toward the future with new resolutions, best intentions, and hope.

My personal journals over the years are littered with annual goals that never seemed to change: losing weight, exercising more, eating healthier. During my 25 years on Wall Street, there were many notations to spend more time with my wife and young children and to get home in time for dinner.

Maybe that’s why the story of the Magi resonates even more deeply for me as I am well into the fourth quarter of my life.

In my work as an executive and career coach and in leading a Bereavement ministry for a large Catholic parish, I’ve walked alongside people navigating profound transitions—the loss of a beloved spouse or family member; a relationship that didn’t work out as planned; a job that is now suddenly gone; and adult children now building their own lives just as we had done when we were younger and leaving many of us in the silence of an empty nest.

In these liminal spaces between the “no longer and the not yet”— I often hear: “Jack, I don’t really know what I’m looking for. I just know something is missing.”

The story of the three Magi offers us wisdom in navigating these modern-day transitions. They didn’t have GPS coordinates and all the technology the modern world provides — no, they had something far less tangible—a star that shimmered in the darkness.

They were searching for the Christ child by following their star but the deeper truth is the child was also searching for them.

Often, the star we seek isn’t always obvious during a transitional moment in our life.

In grief, the star might be a desire to honor your loved one through service and we discover that our pain becomes a bridge to compassion.

In career transitions, the star might be a conversation with a former colleague or a new connection that energizes you toward a new opportunity you had never considered on your own.

For the empty nester, it might be a long-deferred dream that stirs something deep within you and you’re ready to act on it.

The star for any one of us is whatever keeps catching our attention in the darkness, not with ready-made answers, but with an invitation.

So how about you? What feels missing in your life right now? Is there a small light that keeps catching your attention?

Whatever that star is for you, remember that the Magi’s journey didn’t end with finding the child — it ended with them going home “by another way.” That’s what transformation can look like for you.

Wishing you a year where you keep your eyes on your star — I know it’s there for each of you.

Blessings, Dr. K