There’s a word in Swahili that I resonate with: vumilia.

It basically means “persevere.”
But the way my dad used to translate it is, keep on keeping on—which feels a little different than “just hang in there.”

It’s less about barely making it through,
and more about a steady, grounded choosing to continue.

I’ve been working on crocheting this blanket, and I’m in the vumilia phase.

The phase that doesn’t feel inspiring—
but still requires intention and action.

Add another row.
Repeat.
Repeat again.

I can already imagine the delight of this blanket when it’s complete—the warmth of it, the satisfaction of something finished. That future moment pulls me forward.

But right now, the work is mundane. Repetitive. Easy to put off.

There’s a subtle resistance that shows up here. The motivation to vumilia can be hard to find.

It would be easy for this to become another unfinished project tucked away in a cupboard—something started with good intention, but left incomplete.

But vumilia invites something different.

Not urgency.
Not pressure.
But persistence.

A gentle, steady returning.

So much of life is lived in this middle space.

Not the beginning.
Not the end.
But the long stretch of becoming.

And maybe delight isn’t only found in what’s exciting or immediately rewarding.

Maybe it’s something that emerges—quietly, slowly—through regular, consistent attention.

Maybe delight is in not putting something off just because it can be done later.
In choosing to return, even when motivation has faded.
In adding one more row, not because it feels thrilling, but because it is a part of what is emerging.

There is something sacred in that kind of rhythm.

Noticing.
Tending.
Returning.

These small, almost invisible acts of care begin to shape something in us. They form a quiet resilience. A willingness to stay. A trust that something meaningful is being created, even when we can’t yet see the whole of it.

Maybe that’s part of the practice too.

To trust that what feels small is not insignificant.
To believe that repetition is not wasted.
To keep on keeping on—

vumilia—

row by row.