When I stopped guessing at timelines.

When I was nearing the end of writing my master’s thesis in soil science, other grad students and professors starting asking me when my dissertation would be done.

I was in the last semester of classes that had to be completed, so the dissertation would be the final piece before I could earn my master’s degree. It was September, everyone was excited for classes, and I was excited to finish my last two courses and complete my dissertation without having to pay for another semester.

My friends, professors, and so many people kept asking, “How long till you’re done?”

“Two weeks,” I said confidently the first time. Then one week later I said the same.

And I kept answering, “In two weeks.”

I genuinely thought that’s how close I was.

For seven weeks straight, I kept telling people I was two weeks away from finishing.

It was probably early November, when I started feeling uncomfortable saying it. I remember telling one student, “two weeks,” while another friend stood nearby who had heard me say that a month earlier.

That was the moment, I finally realized that I didn’t know how close I was to the end.

Two weeks felt reasonable. I could see the end in sight, and I kept telling myself the writing was almost there. But I had never written anything this long or this precise before, and I didn’t truly know how close I was to the finish.

So I stopped pretending.

When people asked me about my thesis, I started answering truthfully. When people asked how long it would take, I’d say, “I don’t know. I think I’m almost done.” If it was someone I had previously told “two weeks,” we would often laugh together about how funny it is that we think we know how long things will take.

I finished my portion of the dissertation in early December. Classes weren’t over yet, but the semester was winding down. I had raced to finish, but this next part was out of my hands; I was now working with other professors’ timelines for reading and reviewing it. It was February before it was truly done. Then I defended my thesis in front of a committee.

There was a moment during my dissertation defense that was unexpectedly beautiful.

A master’s defense has the student standing and presenting their work to a panel of readers, advisors, peers, and often one or two experts from other departments. During mine, one science professor said, “This dissertation is too long.” Not long after, another professor, from the education department said, “Actually, I believe this dissertation is too short.”

In that moment, it felt as if Mozart’s spirit gave me a wink and a nudge, a reminder of his famous quote about there being neither too many notes nor too few in The Magic Flute, only just enough.

That moment stayed with me.

And it’s been on my mind again recently.

I had planned to promote a course this season. It would have been reasonable, exciting, and tempting to shift my focus there. But when I listened inward, it became clear that my work right now is to finish the book (House of the Living Souls), to write, revise, edit, and complete what I began.

This is what it looks like for me to lead by listening to my intuition, even when there are attractive alternatives. Not everything needs to be done all at once. Not every good idea needs to be acted on immediately.

Right now, my integrity lives in finishing.

You are welcome to acknowledge the areas in your life where you don’t know how long things will take, the outcome is out of your hands, or you wish you could multi-task and complete many things at once.

It’s human to vision for the future and its also human to plant your feet steady in the now, in the moment, in what you can do today and today only. There can be security in pacing yourself. It feels calming to solo-task.

My favorite part of winter is the calmness of winter that reminds me that there’s a season for everything. I don’t need to attempt to live all seasons and goals at once.

I trust that when the book is complete, everything that comes next will arrive with better timing, deeper clarity, and just enough notes.

Lots of love, trust, and seasonal wisdom to you,

Rachel Strivelli

Author of Talk to the Trees and upcoming, House of the Living Souls.