We anticipate. We wait. We romanticize the arrival. We wait. We prepare for the worst, expect the best. We wait. We draw up big plans and schedule. We wait.
There is so much beauty in this waiting. From waiting for the arrival of the food you ordered at a restaurant. From waiting for that special piece of clothing you ordered online, to waiting for your date to show up. From waiting for that first fragrance of summer to hit you, to waiting for that first rain as respite from those hot summer months. The anticipation, the butterflies in the stomach, the expectations and the looking forward to. There is such profound hope in this wait.
I find hope almost audacious. How the heart (and perhaps even the head) muster the courage and be so audacious as to hope for something, sometimes is beyond me! Yet, I happen to think that there is an utter beauty in hoping.
My personal tryst with waiting has been exciting, painful, joyous and problematic. All at the same time, even! I have waited, in vain I might add, for a boy to fall in love with me. Looked forward to that hot cup of chai with a dear friend. Waited to hear the juciest gossip in town. I have waited patiently for a date who I knew would not show up.
Waited for woulds to heal and for memories to fade, for presents to arrive and blissful evenings to never end. Sounds familiar, no? I like that. I like how I have experiences so similar to many out there, yet so unique that it has shaped who I am.
Anthony (Tony) Robbins says there are 6 basic human needs. One of which is variety/ uncertainty. If you ask me, that’s where the beauty of waiting comes in. It is a paradox (and anyone who knows me knows that I love paradoxes). There is such a feeling of “being in the now” while waiting, but there is also a lens on what is to come. Waiting makes you vulnerable, I feel.
To trust that wait is a whole other ball game, though.
This is a romantic post. Not one intending to steer you towards toxic positivity. Waiting is also a struggle. It could make one a phantom in one’s own life. Waiting for life to happen? I reckon not.
It could feel like a slump. It can be extremely triggering, anxiety inducing and very scary too. It can stall the decision making process and become annoying as well. It tests one’s patience and that can be quite disturbing too.
During a recent meeting with a bunch of very dear colleagues at work, we were discussing things on our bucket list. No, not the ones the which have “go bungie jumping” in them. This was more “work for a NGO that is involved in gender awareness” sort of bucket list (Are the two different? Perhaps not). While the discussion was inspiring, to say the least, it also made me feel like my whole bucket list was an indefinite list of things I have put on a waitlist. I couldn’t help but notice how life is happening while I wait for things on my waitlist to happen. And in walked my anxiety and assoicated struggles. Self-immobilizing, painful thoughts were soon to follow. You see how waiting can also be a struggle?
Waiting is hard because it almost seems like nothing is getting done. But waiting can also a self assuring phase. It’s in the waiting that I have assessed (and re-assessed), introspected and learnt so much about myself.
What are your thoughts? Tell me. I’ll wait.
One thought on “The paradox of waiting”
Waiting is hard because it almost seems like nothing is getting done. But waiting can also a self assuring phase. It’s in the waiting that I have assessed (and re-assessed), introspected and learnt so much about myself….. This is such an impressively balanced point of view about waiting .