There’s a sacred kind of strength that blooms in waiting. In that space between what your heart knows and what your  still long to hold.

I see you.

Not for what hasn’t happened yet, but for how you continue to show up for yourself, for others, for life, even while carrying a quiet ache only your heart can name.

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Some days the waiting feels peaceful. Other days it’s a wave of questions without answers. But even there, you are becoming.

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I was re-reading When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön, and one line stayed with me:

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”

You may not see it now, but this chapter- the pause, the longing, the in-between, is not empty. It’s forming you.

It’s refining your patience.

It’s deepening your empathy.

It’s teaching you to nurture the world even before you nurture a child.

And maybe this is also your season to manifest. To see what you desire in your mind. To write it down. To breathe into it and trust that life is aligning in your favor.

In Moments Just For Me, I often write about turning stillness into ritual, using reflection, journaling, and visualization as daily acts of hope. The waiting becomes gentler when you treat it as preparation, not punishment.

So today, breathe gently. You don’t need to fix the waiting. Let it soften you. Let it teach you what it means to trust timing, to surrender control, to believe in life’s unfolding even when you can’t see it yet.

You are already a vessel of love. You are already a mother, to your dreams, your becoming, and the hope you keep alive every day.

Take a breath with me.

Place your hand on your heart and whisper:

“Everything works out for me.”

With warmth,

Tai | ZenMomTribe

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