The Gift of Wait

Image by  Jorge Fernández

Image by Jorge Fernández

My eight year old has a great influence on me. How do I know this? Because I have adopted some of his expressions. For instance, he has this thing where if something is confusing him he will pause and say "wait..." while looking for clarity. He does this a lot, too. Now I am also starting to do it without thinking.

When I think more about it, it seems like a really good idea. "Wait..." or in other words, stop and pay attention to what's going on in the moment. I've been over this in theory a lot, but my son inadvertently handed me the tools to make it a practice.

The truth is, I've needed a reframe for this word for a very long time.

While I waited for the move. While we wait to hear about a job. While I wait for a miracle to make my body whole. While I wait for my children to grow out of the stages I think are hard (but will miss later, right?) Is there ever a time when waiting doesn't feel like a negative thing? I'm not the only one who has wished there were a fast-forward on some of life's challenges.

But here I am, right now, living in the incomprehensible cosmic pause. The time in between the times that I think matter. This time also matters. (Did that ring true?) It not only matters- it is a gift, if I can rest in it. Can I rest in it, oh can I? It's one of the hardest things to do. There are countless cliches and platitudes and reassurances about doing so, (and none are a comfort to me,) but it's not the same as grasping it with the hands of the heart. 

I'm leaving things unresolved again. Many pardons, please. Can you dwell in this pause with me? 

Pause for a minute and stop this folly
of going always from one thing to another.
Gather as one in grateful awareness
of the many moments cherished today.
— Book of Hours: In Shadow and Sun ("Undone")
Jamie Bagley