At the Table, I said something that landed deep in the room:
“The stuckness isn’t stuckness. It’s preparation.”
It wasn’t planned. It came from somewhere deeper.
The moment I said it, breath slowed. Eyes met. Something in the room shifted.
Because how many times have we mislabeled the waiting? The quiet? The pause?
How many times have we called ourselves “stuck”—
when what we were really doing
was becoming?
