I’ve had red hair for most of my adult life. I was born a blonde, but in my 30s I dyed my hair red on a whim–loved it!–and have kept coloring it some shade of aubergine, burgundy, crimson, or auburn ever since.

For over a year, I’d been considering transitioning from red to whatever color hair I actually have now, but it’s a big deal and I wasn’t convinced that the time was right. Basically, I was worried about looking like a red skunk for months on end.

But then COVID happened, and going to the salon simply wasn’t an option. Initially, I touched up my roots at home, but after a few weeks, I stopped. Not because I’d become excited about looking like a red skunk, but because I stopped feeling like a redhead.

I didn’t know that “feeling like a redhead” was even a thing until it happened. As I watched my salt/pepper/blonde/grey roots grow, I realized that it quite suited my emerging sense of self. Rather than feeling like a vibrant red, I feel more like a nuanced grey. Something about the times in which we are living–where nothing is black and white, and exuberance is muted–called forth a feeling that grey was the right hair color for me at this time. Surprisingly, I felt little resistance in letting go of being a “red head” and becoming a “grey head.” In fact, I felt curious and a bit excited.

At this point, you may be wondering why I am blogging about this, since who cares about my hair color and what does it have to do with anything?

The reason is this: the pandemic has prompted all sorts of questions, big and small, about life and how we show up for it.

While coaching my clients over these last months, most of them say they are discovering new aspects of themselves, and that new perspectives and priorities are emerging. Deep questions are springing up, begging for their attention, among them:

-Does my work make a meaningful contribution? Is it important? Does it suit me?

-Why am I living with these people/living alone? Why am I living in (insert city name) when I could be living in (insert other city/town/country name)?

-What was I thinking having kids/a dog/a house? Why don’t I have kids/a dog/a house?

-What makes life worth living? What matters to me now?

-Am I embodying my values? When was the last time I even thought about—much less updated—my values?

-Who am I now, and who do I want to be? What might I have to change in order to realize my vision for my best self?

In a time like this, where vast societal change is underway and we don’t know where we will land, our values and choices are ripe for reassessment. There’s not a person I coach (or know) who has been exempt from major musings.

But for some, mulling big questions isn’t how they are being nudged. Rather, they report an inkling that something that used to make sense or fit in their lives doesn’t anymore. Perhaps a person who used to be close has migrated out of one’s inner orbit. Or a way of being no longer seems authentic. Something they used to be lit up over no longer excites, or, something they never considered interesting now fascinates.

Know that if you are having these inklings or are asking big questions, this is normal. If ever there were a time for reevaluation of your life, this is it. If you don’t feel like you’re a city dweller, or an engineer, or a redhead anymore—maybe you’re not. Let yourself ponder your questions and inklings with not only your logic, but also with your sensing and deeper knowing.

By now, it’s pretty clear that life as we’ve known it is over. With an experience as sweeping as this pandemic and its aftermath, it is only reasonable that a new you will emerge to meet it. Whatever your version of “red skunk” may be, do yourself a favor—give it room to grow, see how it fits, and if it resonates—embrace it.