“I have done nothing all summer but to wait for myself to be myself again.” — Georgia O’Keeffe

As this season draws to a close,
I find myself reflecting on the power of waiting.
I think about how healing often unfolds in silence.
It happens in slowness and unseen places.
What follows is not an explanation or a roadmap,
but a prayer I needed to write for myself.

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I. The Courage to Wait

There is a wisdom in waiting that our culture does not honor.
We live in a world obsessed with productivity, speed, and achievement.
Rest is mistaken for laziness, and silence is confused with absence.

All summer, I waited.
For the quiet to soften me.
For the storms inside to pass.
For the woman I lost along the way to rise and meet me again.

And she is coming—
slowly, fiercely, wholly—
like a wildflower breaking through stone,
like the horizon pulling light back into itself.

This is what healing often asks of us:
to trust the invisible underground work,
and the gestation that can’t be hurried.
Seeds must split in the dark before they bloom in the light.
Similarly, we must surrender to seasons of waiting.
Only then can we rise whole again.

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II. The Feminine Rhythm

In the feminine soul, healing does not move in straight lines.
It circles and spirals.
It withdraws before it returns.
It rests before it creates.

This rhythm is not weakness—it is ancient wisdom.
The body knows how to heal.
The spirit knows how to return.
Our task is not to force it, but to allow it.
To trust that our becoming is not delayed;
it is ripening.

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III. The Dawn Always Comes

We don’t always heal by doing more.
Sometimes we heal by waiting.
By letting silence do its work.
By trusting that the parts of us we thought were gone
are only gathering strength to return.

If you’ve been waiting for yourself, know this:
she is still here.
She is still coming back.

And when she rises,
it will be with roots deeper,
branches stronger,
and a light no storm can take away.

So breathe.
Wait.
Trust.

For the dawn always comes.

Ella xx