We Get to Begin Later

Please excuse the lack of audio accompaniment for now. I’m currently on the road, celebrating Novruz Bayram in Azerbaijan with dear friends & loved ones. Nonetheless, I wanted you to enjoy this week’s edition of Weaving Wisdoms, as it feels especially pertinent at this time. Bayramınız Mübarək, my friends.

It was a post-wedding afternoon in Wisconsin.

I was in the kitchen of our shared Airbnb, elbow-deep in a sink full of suds, washing and drying dishes with a lovely new friend—Nina.

Nina’s one of those folks you meet and instantly sense that a deeply nourishing conversation awaits the two of you—it’ll just take the right little nudge.

That nudge, as it often does, arrived through simple acts: rinsing, drying, speaking, listening.

We began sharing the recent rhythms of our lives—the pauses, the pivots, the lessons, the learnings, and the rippling reckonings.

I told her about my drawn-out departure from Hawai’i. How I had known for some time that it was time for me to leave the islands in order to keep growing—but how, again and again, the process kept being delayed.

The pandemic. Responsibilities. Life. The whole deal.

I must have let some of the disappointment slip into my voice, because Nina—pausing mid-dry, dish towel in hand—offered me a small, knowing smile, and a story of her own.

Nina shared how she had spent nearly a year preparing to apply for a position at an organization she deeply admired.

The process was intensive—multiple interviews, assessments, screenings—but she persevered and, finally, got the offer.

The catch? The job would start in just a few weeks.

The very same few weeks she had set aside to be with her sister, who was expecting her first child.

They had planned this time together for months—to be together in those special weeks and days as her sister stepped into motherhood.

And now, Nina found herself at a crossroads:

• Say yes to the job, and miss a moment she’d never get back.

• Say yes to her sister, and risk the opportunity she’d worked tirelessly for.

She wrestled with the decision—turning it over night after night, weighing the consequences, imagining the what-ifs.

She turned to me, smiling softly.

“And you know what I did?”

“What?”

“I chose my sister.”

She set a plate down gently on the drying rack.

“I chose to be there. I chose to spend those precious weeks with her and her partner. I chose to witness her become a mother. And I’m so, so glad I did.”

I nodded, letting the depth of her gratitude and conviction sink in.

“And the job?” I asked.

She laughed. “Well, the funny thing about that—I reapplied, months later. I went through the whole process again, the assessments, the interviews… and I got it.”

She paused, just long enough for the meaning to settle.

“It wasn’t on my original timeline, but I got it.”

“What I realized from that experience is this:

She looked at me squarely.

“I had put so much pressure on myself to make certain things happen on specific deadlines. But the truth is, things happen when they happen. And sometimes, choosing what matters most in the moment doesn’t mean you’re giving up on a dream—it just means you trust that it’ll still be there when it’s time.”

We live in a world that insists on urgency.

Act now. Move fast. Don’t wait.

We’re told that if we don’t leap now, we’ll miss our chance. That the moment will close. That the window will disappear.

But what if that’s not always true?

What if some things—the right things—are sturdy enough to wait for us?

The things that are not missed. They’re meant.

What if what’s meant for us has a way of making space for us—when we’re ready?

What if delaying doesn’t mean denying, but choosing presence over pressure?

Perhaps it means pausing to be with someone who needs us.

Perhaps it means tending to our healing before tending to our ambitions.

Perhaps it means waiting—not out of fear, but out of trust.

We get to begin later.

We get to arrive slower.

We get to change our minds, shift our timelines, and return to the dream when we’re ready to carry it well.

We get to believe that taking a detour—or choosing a different priority—doesn’t mean we’ve lost our way.

It means we can arrive with intention.

And when the time comes, and that moment does arrive— we won’t be behind.

We’ll be right on time.

Reflections for Growth

• Timeline vs. Truth
  Where in your life have you placed pressure on yourself to reach a milestone “by now”? Who or what shaped that deadline? What might shift if you allowed more grace?

• Choosing Presence
  Reflect on a time when you delayed something in favor of what mattered more in the moment. What did you gain from that decision?

• The Quiet Return
  What’s one thing—a dream, a calling, a plan—you’ve stepped away from? How would it feel to return now, from a place of deeper readiness?

Invitations for Practice

• A Letter to Your Future Self
  Write yourself a note from the version of you who already achieved what you’re striving for—one who chose presence over pressure and trusted the timing. Let that version of you reflect back with compassion and perspective. Let them remind you that there is no rush—that your path is unfolding exactly as it should.

• A 24-Hour Pause
  The next time you feel pressure to make a decision immediately, give yourself permission to wait. Just 24 hours. See what changes in your perspective.

• The Timeline Rewrite
  Journal about one area of your life where you’ve been feeling “behind.” Then rewrite the narrative—what if you were perfectly on time for this version of your journey?

As you practice, please jot down your thoughts and experiences. And as always, feel free to share your reflections directly with me.

With you—in trust and timing,

If you’re enjoying Weaving Wisdoms, please consider sharing it with someone you feel might enjoy it as well.