Sometimes healing doesn’t look like moving forward.
It looks like sitting still in the waiting room of discomfort,
where every instinct wants to run.
But if you can pull up a chair, breathe, and wait --
something ancient begins to turn inside you.
The soul rearranges itself quietly.
You learn that waiting is not wasting;
it’s gestation.
And the door always opens, when it’s time.
It looks like sitting still in the waiting room of discomfort,
where every instinct wants to run.
But if you can pull up a chair, breathe, and wait --
something ancient begins to turn inside you.
The soul rearranges itself quietly.
You learn that waiting is not wasting;
it’s gestation.
And the door always opens, when it’s time.
