I created this tile while I was waiting.

Waiting is such an interesting event. It can take you on a complete roller coaster of emotions—desperation, anxiety, overwhelm, helplessness, hope, and sometimes even frustration. When something is beyond our control, the mind has a way of filling the empty spaces with endless possibilities.

But perhaps the entire game of waiting is learning to accept what is.

To trust the process.
To believe that things will unfold in their own time.
And, above all, to hope for the best.

The longer the wait, the more I have come to understand that control is often an illusion. What I can control is how I respond to the uncertainty. I can choose to breathe, to stay present, to allow the emotions to come and go without letting them take over.

The past couple of weeks have been very much about learning this lesson—staying steady while navigating emotions that seemed to have a mind of their own. And, somewhere in the middle of all that waiting, I picked up my pen and began to tangle.

This little tile became a quiet space for me. I worked with Munchin, Chebu, Twistee, Fall Dance, and Diva Dance, adding soft washes of watercolor to bring a little colour and light into the composition.

The beauty of creating while waiting is that your hands become prayer. The tile transforms into a vessel holding your vulnerability, your hope, and your emerging wisdom. In those quiet moments of creation, waiting transforms from something we endure into something we become—more patient, more present, more whole.