Hold the Vision Tight, And the Timeline Loose
In my twenties, I was incredibly impatient, and in many ways, it served me.
That season of my life was fueled by motion and momentum. I chased experiences, careers, opportunities, travel, building my own business, and getting my first book into the world. That impatience created a foundation for the life I stand on today. It taught me resourcefulness. It taught me grit. It showed me that I could make things happen.
But the older I get, the more I’ve come to see the edge that impatience has to it, too.
There were times when I was driven more by ego than authenticity. Times when I compromised my values in the name of money, achievement, or validation. And there were certainly seasons when I burned myself out, because I believed that if I wasn’t pushing, striving, or sprinting toward the next milestone… then I was falling behind.
Then I had my daughter, Charlie.
Suddenly, the pace that once worked for me… didn’t anymore. Not because I stopped caring about my dreams, but because my life was no longer only my own. I had to find a different rhythm. One that honored both my ambition and my role as a mother. One that made room for love, presence, tenderness, and responsibility, without asking me to abandon the vision I held for my future.
That’s when I happened upon this mantra, which is one that I repeat to myself as often as I need it these days: hold the vision tightly, but the timeline loosely.
In a world that tells you to hustle harder… quit the job… burn the bridge… leap before you’re ready… live like there is no tomorrow… I have come to learn firsthand that there is a quieter kind of courage in choosing another way. In living as if there is a tomorrow. As if your family needs you. As if dependability, steadiness, and rootedness are not the enemies of ambition, but the soil that supports it.
This isn’t about martyrdom. It isn’t about sacrificing yourself or your dreams at the altar of responsibility. It’s about accepting that seasons shift, priorities evolve, and the pace of progress may look different than it once did. You can still be moving toward the dream, just not at a sprint. Not at the cost of your health, your values, or the people you love.
Loosening the timeline has given me something my twenties never did:
Trust.
Trust that what is meant to unfold will unfold in its right season. Trust that progress doesn’t disappear just because it slows. Trust that my worth is not determined by how fast I arrive.
I still hold the vision tightly. I just hold the clock with an open hand.
Where in your life are you clenching the clock too tightly right now? What possibilities are on the other side of loosening your grip?
