It Takes Time

As a college writing instructor, I often urge my students to avoid starting their essays with clichés. Considering the rhetorical situation, a writer has only a fleeting moment to capture the attention of the audience, and overused platitudes rarely do the trick. It’s best to avoid what has already been said a million times.  

But here’s the thing: some sayings earn their well-worn status for a reason. When the sentiment is undeniable—when it speaks to something universal and inescapable—the prosaic becomes proverbial.  

If you had the privilege of meeting Jay, you’ve probably experienced the power of one of his inescapable truths. He had a simple way of delivering wisdom, such that it stopped you in your tracks. Lately, one of these has been echoing in my mind, and it’s all about patience.  

What made his guidance so impactful wasn’t just the words he used, but his embodiment of those words. He didn’t need to dress his wisdom in fancy language; the standalone truth was enough. I don’t think he intended for his words to become aphorisms, but they certainly did for me.  

One of Jay’s truths was this: it takes time. Translation unnecessary, but here it is anyway: if you want to get the goods, you have to do the work. And, when it comes to Pilates, the destination is the journey.

It’s so straightforward, so unassuming, and so easy to overlook. But the simplicity is exactly why it endures. Advice like this becomes timeless—it transcends trends, buzzwords, and even disciplines. It’s the kind of wisdom that doesn’t land right away, but settles in over time. You might not fully grasp its meaning until you’ve lived it. Until you’ve done the work. Until the truth becomes you.  

When I met Jay, I was still recovering from my last pregnancy. I had two little ones, a body I didn’t recognize, and a schedule that left me hunched and twisted most of the time. I was frustrated. Impatient. “Give it time,” he said. Nothing provocative. Nothing revolutionary. Just the truth.  

A fate I couldn’t escape, and one I eventually learned to embrace.  

Jay also reminded me, again and again: “Practice, practice, practice.”

So, I practiced. And I still do.  

Jay’s wisdom didn’t just shape my Pilates practice—it shaped me as a teacher. He set me on the right path and helped me stay there. Whenever he spoke, excuses became irrelevant. His words had a way of cutting through everything else, leaving no room for doubt.  

The real lesson? To reach that level of understanding, you have to be willing to sit with discomfort. You need humility. Patience. The work isn’t easy, and the process isn’t quick, but that’s the point.  

As you ring in the new year, remember to be kind to yourself. Celebrate your accomplishments, embrace the new challenges, and most of all, remember that anything worthwhile takes time.