Waiting & Listening

“Don’t just do something, sit there.”
— Sharon Salzberg

Every night — well, almost every night — I sit on a yoga mat with a small cushion wedged under my seat, legs crossed at the end of my bed. I set a timer… and I wait. Sometimes five minutes, sometimes up to twenty.

And I wait.

In this blog, I’d like to talk about why a practice of waiting and listening has been so transformational for me — not just in my body, through injury recovery and improved performance, but in many aspects of my life.

For me, waiting and listening is something I had to consciously learn over years and years of consistent practice: starting, stopping, putting it down and picking it up again.

Nowadays it feels like a steady part of my life, and I’d be lost without it.

Sometimes it’s painful.
Sometimes it’s boring.
Sometimes it’s transformative.
Sometimes joyful and inspirational.

Some Context

As a child, my mum used to call me “go go.” I had a stim, which meant I constantly made odd noises, talked in strange accents and voices, and fidgeted all the time.

Growing up in the 80s, it’s no surprise that my mother dealt with this by threatening to take me to the speech therapy clinic in the next town if I didn’t stop — which seemed to nip that in the bud.

As I got older, walking, running, constant stretching (usually to Diana Ross, The Supremes, and any disco classic), and aerobics classes were the best thing I could find to scratch the movement itch.

If you’d have said to my younger self that I’d one day be able to sit in silence for a whole hour in a Quaker meeting — or pay attention for a 45–60 minute Feldenkrais lesson, moving slowly and delicately with mindful awareness — I would have said you were crazy.

Yet here I am, as an adult, feeling the joy of stillness and the delicacy of movement.

That’s not to say I don’t still struggle sometimes… but it has been necessary to learn.

From Fidgeting to Feeling

So why this massive shift from fidget to feeling?

What I came to learn is that constant moving got exhausting. So exhausting.

It wasn’t just my body that was whirring — so was my mind.

I hit rock bottom in my mid-thirties. I was having massive problems with my partner at the time. I was in therapy. Anxiety, panic attacks, burnout, clashing with work colleagues… and generally not well in myself.

Then I had a major accident with my right knee in dance class and tore my meniscus from back to front.

In a matter of weeks, I was single, homeless, injured, and seriously needing something to change.

Learning to Sit With What Is

It was at this time that I found Quaker meeting, mindfulness, and Feldenkrais.

What I learned was that I couldn’t outrun my whirring mind, emotions, and restless feet.

I had to feel.

The only way out was through.

I still forget this lesson sometimes, and thankfully I have amazing friends who will sit with me and hold space for my anger, rage, frustration, sadness, fear, and panic until it passes.

The answer is almost too obvious and simple — yet it was the last thing I wanted to do ten years ago.

Healing Through Listening

I had to listen to the sensations of my knee. Move when it was good, and avoid movements that weren’t.

I had to ice it and let the swelling subside.

I had to listen closely to the movements of my hips and ankles. Notice what moved — and more importantly, what didn’t.

How do you move something that doesn’t want to move?

Slowly.
Gently.
With patience and awareness.

I had to notice how my spine moved (or didn’t), the angle of my head, the carriage of my arms.

Slowly, with time and patience, I healed.

I can now do everything I did before, with minimal discomfort — though it’s always a process and needs management.

Waiting Beyond the Body

My mood calmed.
I drove slower.
I ate slower.

I didn’t jump to assumptions about what I thought people were thinking about me.

I judged myself less, and started to acknowledge my worth and value simply for being me — without needing to people-please.

Sometimes we just have to wait for a solution to come.

My knee got better.
I got an amazing new job in Thailand.
I travelled the world.
I realised being single had its benefits.

It wasn’t easy, and waiting alone wasn’t the answer… but I certainly had to learn patience.

What Are You Waiting For?

Moving was always going to be part of the solution.

But learning how to move was the key.

And in order to learn, one has to slow down, take off the pressure, and allow space for the unknown to show up — to make mistakes, repeat, and begin again.

So as I write this blog — and I know I haven’t written in a few months — I’m taking off the pressure.

I decided to take some time this winter to sit, wait, and see what comes.

I had high hopes of doing all kinds of things in the new year, 2026… and they didn’t quite happen the way I thought.

And that’s okay.

I decided to wait for the right moment.

And this is often my question when I sit:

What are you waiting for?
What are you listening for?

Inspiration?
The right time to move?
To speak in a way that feels authentic?
For a thought you’ve never had before?
For your breathing to change?

Or nothing at all…

Just sitting without expectation.

The Most Rebellious Thing

For me, it feels like the most rebellious thing of all — to do the thing I never wanted to do.

In a world of noise, traffic, and constant information bombarding our devices, waiting becomes the most joyful place to be.

Zero pressure.
Zero expectations.

Sometimes after five minutes my back hurts, or my leg goes numb, and I need to shift position.

Sometimes I’m fidgeting the whole time, and it annoys me.

But that’s why I call it a practice.

There’s never a final solution or ending.

It’s different every time.

And it is just what it is.

But it makes me feel better.

Sometimes, for me, instead of doing something, I just sit there, be bored and wait. and eventually action will come, a solution will arrive and life gets a little bit easier.

A Recommendation

If you’re thinking of taking up a waiting or meditation practice, I can highly recommend sitting with someone to begin.

I regularly attend Quaker meeting in Norwich, you can find more information and your local meeting here.

https://www.norwichquakers.org.uk/

There are tons of apps, of course — but if you’re like me and would benefit from someone helping you navigate it with clarity, I can wholeheartedly recommend my colleague Helen Pinnock.

Helen is a meditation teacher, reflexologist, novelist, and all-round legend. She offers a down-to-earth approach to meditation and self-care.

For details on her gentle 4 week meditation course click here.

Happy sitting, everyone.