I recently wrote about “The Pause Between Notes,” and how meaning often lives in the quiet spaces between them. Lately, I’ve been thinking about another kind of space: the middle, the stretch between where we start and where we hope to end up. I’ve spent much of my life chasing the summit or next milestone, ready to celebrate the “we got there” moment. Whether it was building J2, pursuing a personal goal, or working to grow into a better version of myself, my eyes were always on the top. The view from there seemed clear and rewarding, offering proof that the hard work paid off. But lately, I’ve learned to appreciate the view from the middle.
I recently heard someone say that we love coming up with ideas and imagining the result, but what we really resist is the middle. The period of hard work, uncertainty, and slow progress that we go through before we can see the end in sight. Yet that’s where the real journey (and fun) happens. The middle is challenging. Work always takes longer than planned, unexpected roadblocks crop up, and the initial motivation fades. It’s where if we let it… doubt sets up camp.
But it’s also where we grow, learn, and build the kind of resilience and relationships that last.
When Sanjay and I started J2, the beginning was pure adrenaline. The possibilities were endless, and we had grand visions for what success looked like. We still do. But somewhere along the way, we hit a wall. What we thought would work no longer did, and we had to change our business model, rethink our strategy, and rebuild.
That long stretch of uncertainty and reinvention, that middle is where J2 became what it is today. Not in the thrilling launch or the imagined finish line, but in the uncomfortable in-between, where we had to figure out who we were and what we were building. That’s also where we learned what it means to lead, not when things are going well, but when the path forward isn’t clear. The same holds true for nearly everything that matters. Training for an endurance event isn’t about the first run or the finish line; it’s about showing up on all the ordinary days in between, rain or shine. Building relationships, raising families, and growing companies all live in the middle. That’s where character is built, patience is tested, and consistency quietly compounds into something meaningful.
But here’s the paradox: we’re so eager to get past the middle that we miss what makes it valuable. We tell ourselves we’ll enjoy life after we finish the project, hit the target, or solve the problem. Yet when we look back, it’s the middle we remember most, the late nights, the lessons learned, the people who stayed when the outcome was uncertain, and the relationships forged.
The middle isn’t a place to rush through; it’s a place to pause and notice. The view from here might not have the sparkle of the summit, but it offers something better: perspective. You can see how far you’ve come, and what’s still ahead a more clearly. You may even gain insights into yourself.
Maybe the goal isn’t to escape the middle, but to embrace it, because that’s where the real stuff happens. That’s where we become who we’re meant to be.
“The climb might be tough, but the view from the middle teaches you how to see differently.” — Unknown
Take a moment this week to look around from where you are;not where you were, not where you hope to be. What’s the view from your middle right now? What if, instead of rushing through it, you allowed yourself to be fully present for it?
Have a great weekend.
-Vijay