waiting it out
Some storms arrive without warning.
Others build slowly, darkening the edge of the day.
You notice the shift in the air.
The way everything tightens slightly.
Waiting it out isn’t dramatic.
It doesn’t look like bravery.
It looks like staying where you are.
Closing the windows.
Making the space smaller, warmer, more contained.
Outside, things move quickly.
Wind pushes.
Rain insists.
Inside, time stretches differently.
You don’t try to outrun the storm.
You don’t ask it to pass sooner.
You make the best of where you are -
a cup held in both hands,
a conversation that doesn’t rush,
a shared quiet that says, we’re here.
Storms don’t last forever.
They never do.
They move through,
leave their mark,
and then ease.
Waiting it out isn’t about doing nothing.
It’s about trusting the nature of things.
That what feels unending
is usually just passing through.
explore: this memory lives in our waiting it out digital conversation cards
