The waiting room is that season where you’re not where you used to be, but you’re not yet where you want to go. It’s the in-between. The pause before your name gets called. The place where you’re preparing for what’s next, whether you think you know what’s next or not.
If we can move our egos out of the way long enough, we’d see the beauty here. The waiting room is where character develops. Where preparation happens. Where we create, reflect, and release what no longer serves us.
But we want to bypass it. We grow impatient and intolerant. We think our will—our force—can push us through faster. It doesn’t work like that. You’ll only exhaust and burn yourself out.It’s easy to watch others get called before you. The mental chatter starts: “When will it be my turn?” “Will I ever be ready?” “Why them and not me?”
The problem with watching others is that you have no idea where they are in their journeys. You don’t know where they’re being called to next—or what’s waiting for them when they get there. Their timeline is not a reflection of yours. It never was.
Everyone gets called at exactly the right time for their highest good. Not a moment sooner. Not because the universe is withholding opportunity, but because love doesn’t set us up to fail. The waiting room keeps us from walking through a doorway we’re not ready for. It’s protective. We wouldn’t hand a six-year-old the car keys just because they felt ready to drive. Your higher wisdom knows better. That child stays in the waiting room until they’re actually equipped for what’s next.
EXTRA SHOT
Watch Vanessa narrative this piece live on-stage! (coming soon)
No one wants to be in the waiting room. But everyone has to pass through it. These built-in pause points aren’t punishments—they’re where we catch our breath, integrate what we’ve learned, and prepare for what’s coming.
We take the wait personally. Like it’s evidence we’re not good enough, not ready enough, not deserving enough. We get frustrated. Resentful. Sometimes we give up right here.
But your job is to learn to sit in the tension of not being where you want to be without making it mean something’s wrong with you. When we are able to loosen the grip, the pause can be strategic. You can recalibrate here. Gain mastery here. Rest here. The waiting room is the bulb that leads to the flower—fertilized by your patience and who you choose to become while you wait.
EXTRA SHOT
This contribution was written by Vanessa McNeal. Vanessa is a social architect and keynote speaker who transforms the nervous system to lead through love.
Life is full of waiting rooms. When the time comes, we move forward and eventually, we find ourselves in another waiting room. We create suffering if we believe we’ll arrive one day at a place with no more growth, no more waiting.
That’s not how it works. What would we learn by skipping the journey to reach the destination? How would we develop patience, self-trust, or resilience?
Right now is transitory, but micro-moments add up and coalesce into the story of our comprehensive progress. Waiting rooms are where we become the person who’s ready and open to what comes next.
