Your Time, is Your Time
There is a strange ache in waiting and working in the dark while others stand in the light. Learning to applaud another’s moment while carrying your own unseen labor. Yet this, too, is part of the architecture of becoming.
Those who have known “their time” rarely describe it as control. They describe it as wind; something sudden, almost sovereign. A force that finds you in an open field and, if you are ready, lifts you.
Success arrives like lightning before thunder: first seen, then heard.
Until then, there is only the work, the silence, and the endurance to keep going without proof. But your time is not late because it is unseen. Your time, is simply your time.
