The Wisdom in Waiting - A Love Letter to the In-Between

by Minista Jazz

"Some days, your soul just says 'nope.' Don't fight it. That's not laziness, that's your inner wisdom knowing when to recharge. Even the sun takes a break, but it's still burning bright. You, buried under the blankets, are building strength for when it's your time to shine."

I will take this opportunity to keep it real with you ('keep it a buck' as my kid would say).

New year, new me? Yeah, not so much this time. Your timeline's probably exploding with vision boards and 'hustle harder' mantras, but let's be real, sometimes you just hit a wall. It's not about lacking ambition – trust me, we've got dreams for days. And it's not about being lazy, either. We've been pushing that damn rock up the mountain for years, and sometimes you need to stop, if only to catch your breath and remember why you started climbing in the first place. You know, the kind of pause where you can lose yourself in the purple haze of a lavender field and rediscover that sense of wonder. That kind of pause is a necessity, not a luxury.

The "I Don't Feel Like It" Season

"Season" comes from the Old French "seison" - meaning the right moment, the perfect time. Funny how even when something feels wrong, it might be exactly right...

We're in that weird in-between space, the one that throws you back to childhood. Remember being ten, crammed in the backseat with your sweaty cousins while your mom and her friend dissected the latest gossip? "New job, same dress?" they'd say, nodding knowingly. You understood the words, but the meaning? A total mystery. That's where we are now, trying to decipher the world without the full story.

And "tired" feels different here. Not the good kind of tired, the kind that follows a killer workout or an all-nighter fueled by ambition. This fatigue creeps into your bones, weighs down your soul like it overindulged at the all-you-can-eat buffet. Your ideas are still there, glittering like dust motes in a sunbeam, but grabbing them feels like trying to capture smoke.

You crave growth, but the thought of another self-improvement checklist makes you want to barf. My grandmother, bless her soul, used to say, "Jazzy, a tree doesn't grow by pulling on its leaves." Back then, even though I smiled, I didn't get it. Now, perched up on the precipice of a new year, I understand. Growth has its own rhythm, its own sacred timing.

But what if this feeling of being stuck is something else entirely? What if it's not a standstill, but a gathering?

Stuck. Say it enough times, and it starts to sound like nonsense. Like any word repeated until it's just a collection of sounds. Maybe being stuck isn't what we think it is. Maybe it's...

• Burnout in disguise. You've been "on" for so long, your system is begging for a timeout. Remember when timeout was a punishment? Now, we adults crave that corner, that five minutes of alone time.
• Overwhelm masquerading as writer's block. Remember that fresh box of 64 crayons? So many colors, you'd freeze. Forest green or pine green? Too many choices, too many possibilities. That's us now, paralyzed by potential, staring at the blank page of our lives.
• FOH: Fear Of Happiness. (Yeah, list with that one for a minute.) You've worked your ass off, and suddenly, everything you ever wanted is within reach. But instead of embracing the joy, you hide under the covers like a kid hearing your mother's heels coming down the hallway after bedtime. Of course, you want what you've worked for, but now you have the terror of having something to lose. Protecting your peace suddenly feels heavier than any struggle you've ever known.
• The rhythm of creativity. My mama had this old aloe plant. Some seasons it danced, others it held up the wall. But that stillness was part of the process. You're not out of ideas, you're in the "shhh" of your cycle. The part where your rest is the work.

Someone wise once said, "But what if this feeling of being stuck is something else entirely? What if it's not a standstill, but a gathering?"

So, let me say this loud and clear: You're not broken. You're becoming. This "stuck" feeling isn't a full stop. It's a comma, a pause before the next chapter unfolds. And that chapter, my friend, is going to be undeniable!

The Soft Reset - Learning Your Rhythm

You know what's been on my mind lately? How to effectively handle these in-between moments. And I keep coming back to Double-Dutch (stay with me here).

Remember being that kid on the block, watching those ropes hit the sidewalk? Some of us would stand there forever, shifting from foot to foot, feeling the rhythm before jumping in. And there was always that one friend who'd say "Go ahead, just jump!" (Hello, motivation gurus of today.) But here's what they didn't understand: waiting wasn't hesitation. It was preparation. It was wisdom.

Real talk: I once jumped too soon and got my ankles whipped so bad, I still remember the sting. Sometimes rushing in hurts more than taking your time.

So here's what I'm proposing (and this isn't your typical "get your life together" list... this is more like that moment when your best friend would share her Skittles with you because she knew it was time for you to 'taste the rainbow.'

• Start Small (Like penny candy small):

Remember how we used to stretch those quarters at the corner store? One piece at a time, savoring every bit? That's how we're gonna handle this season.

* Maybe it's just writing one word in your journal (not a whole page... just one true thing).

* Maybe it's sending that text (even if it's just "sis, you up?").

* Maybe it's making your bed (or just smoothing out one corner... baby steps).

• Make Rest Feel Like Something (because babes, we're not just laying there, we're healing):

Do you remember those summer days when it was too hot to move? When you'd lay on your grandma's plastic-covered couch, window fan humming, watching 'Days of Our Lives', and eating ice cubes? That's called STILLNESS, not LAZINESS - and it was necessary.

So let's make your rest feel like that:

* Cue up the playlist (the one with all the songs that remind you of block parties and summer crushes)

* Light the fancy candle (not the cheap one... the one you've been "saving for a special occasion")

* Let your mind wander without feeling guilty (like when we used to cloud-watch from the park bench while waiting for our turn on the swings)

• Find Your Shortcuts (because Mama raised no fool):

Let me tell you something. There's a difference between cutting corners and being smart with your energy. Like when we knew exactly which streets to skip to make it home faster after school.

* Make a list of what you can let go (Remember trading chores with your siblings? "You do the dishes, I'll sweep")

* Stop doing everything the hard way (my Mom would say "A pot watched never boils, but a microwave heats up in two minutes")

* Ask for help (remember, Double Dutch needs at least three people?)

• Link Up With Your People (because every jump rope needs a crew): Sometimes when the energy is low, it's because we're trying to double dutch alone... and babes, that's not how the game works. You need your people.

* Call that friend (the one that has your old house number memorized)

* Set up that sister-circle zoom (PJs required, Kombucha optional, Truth mandatory)

* Share what's really good (And what's really not.)

• Write It Down (Like the fold up notes we used to pass in class.)

Every December, I sit down with my journal (The fancy one I got from Marshalls that I've been "saving for something special".)

Here's what I goes in it:

* The wins (Even the tiny ones, perfecting a wingtip eye liner.)

* The hard stuff we survived (Because surviving IS thriving)

* The dreams we're still holding onto (Even if they feel bigger than our current reality.)

Then I seal it up like a time capsule. Trust me... next December, you'll read it and think, "Look at God..."

The Truth About "Becoming"

Here's the sweet tea and lemonade: becoming the next version of yourself doesn't always mean pushing yourself. (Note to self.)

It's like what my Great Grandma Cook used to say about her collard greens... "Don't rush 'em. Stop trying to force time. You have to let 'em mix down and simmer. They be ready when they be ready."

So if you don't feel like grinding right now, and your spirit isn't matching that "new year, new me" energy? Boo, you're not falling behind. You're not being lazy. You're simmering. Developing that deep, rich, long-lasting flavor.

Let 2025 meet you where you are – softly, fully, present. Ready only when you're ready. And when the time comes to bloom, may the lavender field of your rest stretch far and wide.

To everyone moving "slow," recalibrating, or just trying to catch your breath, I'm keeping it a buck with you because someone needs to say it: Sometimes the most revolutionary thing we can do is just be still. Let's roll into this new year at our own pace... because growth doesn't stop just because we pause to breathe.