When You Don't Know What's Next

I like answers.

I like knowing what the plan is. I like clarity, consistency, and knowing where I stand.

And lately, life seems to be giving me plenty of opportunities to practice the exact opposite.

Waiting.

Uncertainty.

Plans changing.

A business that has slowed down.

Questions without immediate answers.

And if I'm being completely truthful, there are moments when I don't handle it nearly as gracefully as I would like to.

I wonder.

I question.

I sometimes think, Should I be doing more?

And occasionally, that little voice creeps in that asks, What if things don't work out the way I hope?

But then I walk outside and look at my garden.

That garden has become one of my greatest teachers this summer.

A few months ago, there was nothing there but soil and seeds. I watered. I waited. Some things didn't grow at all. Some struggled. Some grew in directions I never intended.

And some surprised me completely.

I couldn't stand over those beds and demand that everything grow faster.

I couldn't pull on the plants to make them taller.

All I could do was tend to what I had planted, make adjustments when they were needed, and trust what I couldn't yet see.

And lately I've realized...

Maybe life is asking the same thing of me.

My business doesn't need me standing over it every day asking, Where are all my clients?

It needs me to continue nurturing it.

To keep learning.

To keep connecting.

To keep becoming more visible.

To keep sharing what I believe.

To keep showing up from my heart.

And then... to allow some space for what happens next.

That's the hard part.

Because trusting doesn't mean that we never worry.

Patience doesn't mean that we never become frustrated.

And surrender certainly doesn't mean that we stop taking action.

Maybe it's learning the difference between taking action because we're inspired... and taking action because we're afraid.

I'm beginning to recognize that difference in myself.

I need to do more feels very different from I have more to give.

One comes from fear that what I'm doing isn't enough.

The other comes from knowing there is more inside me that wants to grow.

That distinction has been powerful for me.

There are things in my life right now that I cannot control.

There are answers I don't have yet.

There are plans that may change.

There are seeds I've planted that haven't broken through the soil.

And I'm learning—still learning—that I don't have to know how everything turns out in order to keep moving forward.

Maybe that's where faith lives.

Not in knowing.

But in continuing anyway.

Continuing to water.

Continuing to nurture.

Continuing to make choices that feel aligned with who I am.

Continuing to make room for the people and experiences that bring me joy.

And trusting that when something needs my attention, I'll know.

I don't have this figured out.

Perhaps that's the whole point.

I'm not writing this from the other side of the lesson.

I'm writing it from the middle of it.

And maybe you are in the middle of something too.

Maybe you're waiting for an answer.

Waiting for healing.

Waiting for a relationship to change.

Waiting for an opportunity.

Waiting for something you've worked incredibly hard for to finally begin growing.

If you are, perhaps we can both remember:

Slow doesn't mean stagnant.

Uncertainty doesn't mean you're on the wrong path.

And not knowing what's next doesn't mean nothing is happening.

Sometimes the roots are simply growing where we cannot see them yet.

So for now...

I'll keep tending my garden.

I'll keep tending my relationships.

I'll keep tending my business.

I'll keep tending myself.

And I'll keep reminding myself that I don't need to have every answer today.

Sometimes the next step is enough.

And maybe tomorrow...

we'll see what's beginning to bloom.

🕉️ ❤️ find your joy ❤️ 🕉️

~marci