"Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch." –E.B. White, Charlotte's Web
We live in a time without a lot of waiting. If there's more than one person in line at Target, the red shirts swoop in and take over. Gas stations have twenty pumps. We have multiple glowing rectangles that deliver messages to us frenetically. It has become absurd. Remember waiting for a phone call as teenager? Those wonderfully tactile moments when your emotions crossed over and started oozing out of your skin? I'm nervous! I'm excited! I always loved that. Now a series of constant interruptions don't really allow us to feel much completely. A friend recently shared that he thinks even the novelty of the instant gratification is starting to wear off. Yep. Read it again. I think he might be right.
I like waiting. Not in lines so much, but in life. There's something about the anticipation for me that makes the result more meaningful. These are the moments when nothing is certain, no questions need to be answered, no actions need to be taken. We just are allowed to be. I may have just described my personal idea of heaven unknowingly. You know a great place to satiate the wait is? An art museum. So much quiet there and also filled with works that took a long, thoughtful time to complete. The trick is to remember the feeling once you leave; bottle a little of it up.
I say the next time you're given a "Can I let you know?" Embrace it. Give it a nice long squeeze. Even a shimmy. Next time you're not sure? Delay your response a little. May I suggest a nap? How about a trip to a bookstore? Also, it's important to allow others room to do the same.
My point is that we should attempt something new and not numbly succumb to the frantic pace, try actively to be more patient, and thoughtfully seek out slower things to do. Let's see what happens if we become comfortable in this space of wait. I'm betting we're going to like it.
If you try, will you let me know how it goes? I'm very interested to hear.