My inner Veruca Salt is raging. 

Patience is not my strong suit.  Sitting in uncertainty and anticipation, allowing things to unfold without hurrying them along- Dang, that’s hard! 

Sure, I understand there’s a beauty to allowing something to develop organically, naturally. 

But ohmygosh, I want it now. I want it right now!  

Several years ago, as my role as mom began to shift because our boys were growing up, I sensed something stirring.  Like when your tummy growls, letting you know it’s time for some nourishment, my soul started sending me a similar message- time to nourish your SELF.  

But I had no idea how. So I grumble and groan.  Continue to ask lots of questions and explore. Still, nothing.  Crickets. Over a span of years. 

Yes, I have moments of inspiration leading me down interesting paths. And don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying life along the way. But I haven’t found my thing. And that stirring…it’s persistent. There’s something out there, waiting for me to claim as my own, and I just don’t know what it is. And ohmygolly, I’m so tired of hearing how all the answers reside within myself! I mean, if that’s true, why the heck aren’t they surfacing?  Is it my fault? Am I doing something wrong? Universe, don’t you hear me? I want it now! 

Deep breath. 

Here’s the thing. As time has passed and I’m allowing myself to sit in the unknown and uncertainty,  I’m noticing something really cool. I’m actually starting to sense an opening. My chest is looser and I’m not gripping onto things as tightly. My breath is deeper. Slower. Calmer. 

And in this space, grace unfolds.  In the waiting, creativity flows. 

If I can get out of my own way, (Varuca!) there are endless possibilities waiting for me! 

And lo and behold, I begin to recognize some of those answers that reside within myself.  And along with a great sense of relief and joy is clarity. 

It’s surfacing slowly. I liken myself to a caterpillar going through metamorphosis.  We assume that caterpillar is just resting inside that cocoon; while in fact, there’s a phase where it actually turns to liquid before taking form again. And while it’s quiet, that caterpillar is doing a whole heck of a lot of work.  You can’t see it, but it’s happening. It’s slowly becoming that butterfly.  

In my quiet, I’ve identified judgments around being lazy and entitled. And fear is rearing it’s ugly head again. But I recognize that’s really just my stealthy little ego, trying to block me. Because the truth is that carving out quiet space, sitting in the uncertainty and unknown,  is crucial to clearing space for creativity to flow.  

And finally, from this quiet place, I’m reaping the benefits. Thoughts and ideas seem to spring out of nowhere. Miracles. My deep breaths allow me to observe things I may have overlooked before. I’m feeling joy and a sense of freedom that I haven’t in a very long time. 

Time is a trap. Worrying about completing things by a self-imposed timeline sucks me into a vortex of confinement and tightness. Opening to the possibility that things will unfold perfectly in their own time does the opposite. Time is slippery. Patience is crucial.

If I were a caterpillar, I’d be moving through that liquidy phase, where everything has turned to mush. But I’ve got a sense that I’m beginning to take shape. And ohmygoodness, (rule of threes!) I’m bursting with joy!   My patience is being rewarded and I’m so grateful!

I’m excited to share where this journey is taking me!

So here’s to butterflies and all that they’ve gone through. A patient lot they are- just like me!

In loving,



  • Sarah Altman

    Coaching Women Through Midlife

    From an early age, Sarah was profoundly curious about the human process, always seeking  meaning in life’s events. She began exploring these deep-seated questions in her twenties and later earned a Master’s Degree in Spiritual Psychology with additional studies in Consciousness, Radiant Health and Healing. 

    She thought her one job in life was to be a mom. And then her kids grew up.  So Sarah began writing as a way to work through the transitions and uncertainty midlife presented. When cancer happened, writing became a catharsis, helping her process the experience.

    Sarah’s grateful to have the opportunity to share her insights through both her writing and coaching, where she facilitates women in moving through midlife.

    Sarah shares her life with her husband and two amazing boys.  

    She also loves chocolate cake.

    If you're moving through midlife and would like support, check out Sarah's website at

    Sarah's book, My Breast Life, One Woman’s Journey Through Cancer, Blog by Blog can be found on Amazon. 

    Visit Sarah's website here.