While You Wait
Something for your stamina
I think often about something my Marine Corps father told me when I was young.
“Treading water is one of the best workouts there is.”
Repetition without reward. Absolutely excruciating for both mind and body.
Waiting holds similar rigor.
You’ve warmed up. You’ve jumped in the pool, ocean, pond, river. And now you’re told just to stay afloat. There’s no race. No speed. No hurry. It’s just you in the deep end. Two arms, two legs, and an indeterminate amount of stamina.
Just waiting for someone to blow the whistle.
Existing in a season of waiting is funny. But in a laugh because it’s polite kind of way.
Your mind on a rat wheel, but your limbs anchored.
"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
Albert Einstein had no idea he was describing the embodiment of agonizing patience with brilliant accuracy.
Because what waiting really is -
noun; the action of staying where one is or delaying action until a particular time or until something else happens
The act of staying where you are. Woof.
A waiting period isn’t a growth period. It isn’t a “difficult time” or a rough patch.
It’s paralyzing patience.
And it’s consistent.
Consistently feeling like you’re making no progress. Or like that day will never come.
It’s cessation of power. It’s nodding when they say “it’ll happen when the time’s right” or “what’s meant to be will be”.
It’s heavy though. Isolating, sometimes.
Yes, you’re happy. Your smile still touches you eyes and food still tastes good.
But every so often a fog. The kind that levitates you from conversations and is punctuated with “sorry, can you repeat that?”.
Your mind drifting to what’s to come, what could be.
Two pink lines or the doctor’s lips parting, “we got it all”.
Or maybe it’s a direct deposit and a grocery trip without coupon clippings.
A knight in shining armor, a diamond ring. A text back.
But maybe it’s lighter, softer, subtler. A destination that is felt not seen.
But regardless, you move through life with your steaming lattes and full inbox and grocery lists and dry-cleaned trousers and favorite Netflix shows only to glance at the date on your iPhone while you’re brushing your teeth at night.
Only one day has passed. And no one applauds even though you’ve been sprinting through sand for weeks now.
Waiting plays funny games with the clock.
Because there isn’t anything you can do to expedite an outcome.
Whatever it is you’re awaiting right now, here are tangible ways to bring warmth and comfort into the days that don’t fly by.
Something for your stamina.
Warm beverages.
Even if you’re not drinking it. Just cup a steaming mug.
Simple, home cooked meals.
Single ingredient foods. A recipe from your childhood. Something cooked in butter.
Gentle social plans.
The kind that dot the calendar without a secret hope of cancelation.
Fresh air.
Even when you don’t want it. Even when the air is so cold that your lungs ache and your cheeks burn.
Something to get lost in.
A new hobby. A new book. A new show.
A small spruce up.
Kitchen towels. A lamp. Candles count.
Something to do with your hands.
Even if it’s just the dishes.
Audio to soothe.
Jazz. A fan. A hair dryer. A space heater. Actual rain.
A micro project.
Something to make progress on.
Sleep.
The always foundation.
Something oversized.
Clothing and chairs. Room to breathe.
Organization.
Make space for what’s to come. Give every belonging an intentional home.
Something to look forward to.
Think short term. Today, tomorrow. Imminent joys.
Routines to relish in
Patience feels lighter when rhythms are enjoyable.
While I was writing this post, I took a break to shower. I watched suds and self tanner and swirls of postpartum hair circle the drain as my mind wandered back to my blinking cursor downstairs.
What do I want people to take away from this post?
Another minute under the hot water and I didn’t have an answer. And I still don’t.
There’s no single punch line, no one point. No comprehensive downloadable free guide to optimize patience and bio-hack your way to overflowing gratitude. No Band-Aid.
My realization rather, is that we’re all treading water. Some pools are just deeper than others.
Be gentle with yourself.
Staying afloat is the hardest workout of all.
And in time my love, in time.
Looking for more?
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I wasn’t going to post this week. I was looking forward to taking a week off and coming back into 2026 with fresh ideas.
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Does anyone remember that TLC show My Strange Addiction? Where people would deep dive into their obsessions with licking stuffed animals or huffing Oreos? Is that still on? Honestly, great content.
My Evening Routine Starts at 2:00 P.M.
Let me preface this post by making two very important disclaimers:
Thank you for this lovely encouragement today, Natalie. I fall into periods of waiting, and being frustrated, but not entirely sure what I'm waiting for, and then reminding myself that "this right here is what we have" so shifting my focus to the here and now. It's a tough balance of waiting for what's next, while being present. I find it especially true in this stage with little kids.
this was like a gentle hug to read ☺️ thank you for writing this, exactly what i needed to read on this chilly thursday afternoon. off to make a cup of hot herbal tea to hold and sip 🤎