The Penguin Waddle Theory of Productivity

Yesterday, I wrote about something that quietly haunts a lot of adults: the feeling that you are somehow behind in life. It is that strange moment when you look around and everyone else seems to be moving forward—careers accelerating, houses appearing, milestones unfolding—while you feel like you’re stuck in place. I shared how Pi Day reminded me that life is not linear, as the number π continues infinitely, never repeating, much like our own lives. Our stories unfold in ways we cannot predict, but today, I want to talk about something equally important. If life isn’t a race, how exactly are we supposed to move forward? The answer, oddly enough, might come from penguins and what I call the Penguin Waddle Theory of Productivity.

My Slightly Questionable Penguin Phase

I have loved penguins for as long as I can remember, and when I say loved, I mean really loved. At one point years ago, I actually googled whether you could adopt or buy a penguin. Spoiler alert: apparently there are ways to sponsor penguins through conservation programs, but actually owning one is not something responsible people should do. However, that did not stop me from developing what I believed at the time was a very reasonable plan: the penguin could live in our bathroom.

Hear me out. We had an ice maker, I could make unlimited ice, and the penguin would have a cool environment, snacks, and a comfortable place to hang out. It seemed perfectly logical in my mind. My husband—who was my boyfriend at the time—gently informed me that this was not, in fact, a good idea. And to be clear, he was absolutely right. Still, my admiration for penguins never went away.

The Penguin That Started It All

Years ago, I saw a video of a penguin in Japan named Lala. Lala became famous because he would waddle through his town wearing a little backpack, and people in the neighborhood would feed him fish treats as he made his daily rounds. Watching that video stuck with me for some reason, because penguins don’t move the way we imagine progress should look. They don’t sprint across the ice, and they don’t glide gracefully like dolphins.

They waddle. It’s awkward, slightly clumsy, and not particularly fast. And yet, penguins travel thousands of miles every year. Some species migrate extraordinary distances across oceans and ice fields. They may look funny while doing it, but they still get exactly where they need to go.

Applying the Penguin Waddle Theory of Productivity

Somewhere along the way, we started believing that progress should look smooth and impressive. The ideal version of success looks like someone sprinting forward—confident, focused, and moving quickly from one milestone to the next. But real life rarely looks like that. Most progress is awkward, uneven, and sometimes messy. You try something that doesn’t work, you start over, you learn something the hard way, and you make mistakes. If you are building something—whether it’s a business, a family, a creative life, or simply a stronger version of yourself—the truth is that progress often looks less like a marathon runner and more like a penguin.

My Own Waddle Season

Before starting my most recent businesses, I was working in sales. It was unpredictable and exhausting; income was up one month and down the next. There was no stability, and I knew something about the situation wasn’t aligned with the life I wanted to build. When I eventually started my businesses, I didn’t glide into entrepreneurship gracefully. I waddled into it. I invested in products that didn’t work, I hired people who weren’t the right fit, and I spent money on things I didn’t fully understand yet. At the time, those experiences felt like failures, but looking back, they were the awkward steps that eventually led somewhere meaningful.

The 11:58 PM Blogger Club

And then there is my current adventure: the 365-day blog challenge. People sometimes imagine writing as a peaceful morning ritual with perfect lighting and a beautiful cup of tea. The reality looks a little different. Yesterday’s blog was published at 11:58 PM. At 11:50 PM, I was staring at my screen thinking a very reasonable thought: Why did I commit to doing this every single day? But that is the thing about consistency. It rarely feels glamorous in the moment. Sometimes it feels like showing up when you are tired, and sometimes it means writing late at night or squeezing creative work into the edges of a busy day.

The Motherhood Waddle

Motherhood introduced an entirely new rhythm to productivity. For the first few months after my daughter was born, the only way I could get anything done was by carrying her in a Baby Bjorn while standing. I would stand with my laptop, stand while answering emails, and stand while talking on the phone. The moment I sat down, she woke up, so I adapted. Many days I worked in small bursts—typing on my phone while holding her, researching something at odd hours, or waking up in the middle of the night to write for a couple of hours while the house was quiet. This is what progress looked like in that season. Not elegant, but very real.

Why the Waddle Works

For a while, the blog felt like something I was simply doing for myself—a commitment and a discipline practice. Then, one day, something surprising happened. A complete stranger found my blog through a random search online and started following my writing. That moment stopped me for a second. Somewhere in the world, someone I had never met was reading something I wrote and finding comfort in it. Suddenly, those late nights, awkward writing sessions, and small daily efforts felt meaningful. The waddle was actually moving forward.

So here it is, my completely unofficial philosophy of progress. We move forward in small, sometimes awkward steps. Sometimes quickly, sometimes painfully slowly, and sometimes it even feels like we are sliding backward. But if we keep moving, we eventually arrive. Not always on our timeline, but often on something closer to divine timing.

Keep Waddling

Yesterday, we talked about how life is infinite, like the digits of pi. Today’s reminder is simpler. If your story is infinite, you don’t need to sprint through it. You can take awkward steps, you can move slowly, you can pause when needed, and you can waddle. Because progress doesn’t have to be elegant; it just has to keep moving.

I see you, Dear Reader, and I think you are doing amazing. Keep going, waddle on, and forward. ❤️

About the Author | Day 74

On Day 74 of my 365-day journey toward radical responsibility, I am embracing the waddle. I am committed to sharing the unfiltered reality of building a business and a life that honors the nervous system over the hustle. My work focuses on somatic healing and the belief that consistent, awkward progress is the most sustainable path to a legacy. Whether I am standing at my laptop or navigating the beautiful chaos of motherhood, I am here to remind you that your pace is sacred.

Thank you for being part of this journey toward consistency, awkward progress, and collective light, Dear Reader. ❤️