“Any day now.”
That’s what we tell ourselves.
The big break, the glow-up, the life-changing epiphany—it’s right there, just a few motivational speeches, cold emails, and self-imposed caffeine overdoses away. We’ve been grinding, manifesting, trusting the process like a bunch of overworked hamsters on a cosmic wheel of self-improvement. And yet… nothing. No grand moment, no life-altering shift. Just a weird, awkward pause where reality refuses to catch up with all the effort we’ve thrown at it.
This is the paradox of momentum.
We build it, expecting a moment. But sometimes, the moment just ghosts us. We sprint toward the finish line, only to realize it’s been pushed five miles ahead by some unseen force that feeds on our frustration. And so, we find ourselves in the dreaded limbo of almost, the tragic yet comedic space where we’ve done everything—but are still staring at the blinking cursor of life, waiting for something to happen.
Welcome to the “um” phase.
THE SCIENCE OF ALMOST-THERE (BUT NOT REALLY)
Turns out, our brains love the idea of getting somewhere more than actually arriving. Science calls it the dopamine effect—every new milestone, every perceived inch of progress, gives us a little chemical high. That’s why we refresh our emails 72 times a day, hoping for that “Congrats, you’ve been chosen!” message. It’s why we invest in side hustles, digital courses, and bullet journals that promise to optimize our potential. Progress feels addictive—until it doesn’t.
Meanwhile, social media keeps us hooked on the illusion of overnight success. We see people posting about their “big moment” with captions like hard work pays off! (Did it, though? Or are they leaving out the years of struggle, failed attempts, and existential crises?) We’re stuck in an infinite scroll of comparison, convinced that everyone else has cracked the code while we’re buffering in 240p.
In reality, most of us are just running on the hamster wheel of effort, mistaking movement for meaningful change. The wheel spins, we feel like we’re moving—but take a step back, and we’re still in the same damn spot.
THE "UM" PHASE – WHEN REALITY HICCUPS
The “um” moment is that awkward void where effort and results refuse to shake hands.
- Career: I have the degree, the resume, the LinkedIn headshot… but no job offers. Um?
- Creativity: Page one of my novel was pure genius. Page two? Um.
- Love Life: We’ve been dating for three years. Wedding bells? Um.
The worst part? Society hates the “um” phase—it makes us look like we’re floundering, failing, falling behind. No one wants to admit they’re stuck in a loop of uncertainty, that they’ve been “almost there” for so long it’s basically their brand now. But the truth is, this phase is inevitable, no matter how many self-help books tell us otherwise.
HUSTLE, GRIND… OR REDIRECT?
Modern wisdom tells us: “Just keep going.” And to be fair, there’s truth in that. Growth often comes from persistence, from showing up even when results aren’t immediate. Momentum, after all, is what keeps us moving through resistance, through self-doubt, through the long stretches where progress isn’t obvious.
But here’s where physics—and life—get interesting. Momentum is powerful, but direction matters more. If we’re moving just for the sake of moving, are we really making progress—or just exhausting ourselves in a straight line that no longer serves us?
Instead of asking, “Am I pushing hard enough?” maybe the better question is:
- Do I need to adjust my trajectory?
- Am I still moving toward what I actually want, or just what I thought I wanted?
- Is this resistance telling me to push through—or to pivot?
Momentum is a tool, not a guarantee. And sometimes, the smartest move isn’t to push harder but to pause, assess, and maybe even change course.
Because in the end, growth isn’t just about motion—it’s about moving with purpose.
THE IRONIC SOLUTION: LET THE "UM" BE THE MOMENT
What if the “um” isn’t an obstacle? What if it’s the actual moment we’ve been waiting for?
See, the biggest scam of momentum is making us believe that only the destination matters. But what if the magic isn’t in the final achievement, but in the ridiculous, frustrating, absurd middle ground where we’re forced to sit with uncertainty?
Maybe the “um” is where we build resilience, rethink our goals, or find unexpected joy in the messiness of progress. Maybe it’s where the real stories happen—the moments we’ll laugh about later, the ones that teach us more than the so-called “big breaks” ever could.
Because in the end, momentum is nothing without moments. But moments mean nothing without the “um.”