Can there be contentment in the waiting without losing the wanting?
This is a question I’ve been pondering recently. Can we be in a period or season of waiting without becoming stagnant or complacent? Can we be still without losing our wanting, dreaming, or motivation?
I believe there can be wisdom in the waiting; slowing down in transitions, big decisions, or calculated risks. Just “being” in the stillness or regularity of the “now” can give needed reprieve from the hustle of busyness. Maybe a time of waiting can provide needed respite, and an opportunity to check in with how we are and what we need.
The waiting can also sometimes feel like stagnation however. Like if we slow down, or dare I say stop, long enough to be still and take stock, the fear of complacency may begin to creep in. Whispering judgments of laziness without the constant forward movement.
Who are we without the perception of gain, achievement, and productivity?
Do we fear being left behind? #FOMO
There were times not that long ago in our culture where the slower pace of life was something to be sought after and kept sacred. The “being with” of self and other in the routine of life; gathered around the dinner table, listening to the radio, or tinkering with the car. Even the biblical idea of “tarrying before the Lord” has the positive connotation of lingering in expectation.
The contentment in this type of waiting came from a knowing that the pause was not in vain. The expectation that there is something yet to unfold gives the waiting a noble purpose; a meaning derived from the punctuation between the “now” and the “not yet”.
The definition of a “pregnant pause”, as it is used in literature or the theatrical arts, is “a pause that gives the impression that it will be followed by something significant”. The waiting or desire for significant things to be happening in our lives is completely normal, and yet in the rush, push, or hustle we may miss what is important because we didn’t stop and honour the wait.
I believe that waiting for the next significant season of our lives to be revealed can be so difficult because we fear it never will. We fear getting stuck in the mundane, like a stale march that will surely suck us down if we don’t keep moving. These fearful undertones of our fast-paced culture perhaps are even revealed in the writings of Dr. Seuss’ “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!”
“You can get so confused that you’ll start into race…headed, I fear, towards a most useless place. The Waiting Place…for people just waiting”
The fear that the “Waiting Place” will become where we live, with its useless lack of productivity, adventure, and zest can motivate almost anyone to “find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing” (Seuss, 1990).
And don’t get me wrong, adventure and growth, challenge and victory, determination and success, are all wonderful things! We are designed to create, expand, and self-actualize to our greatest potential. But again I ask, can there be contentment in the waiting without losing the wanting?
May we gather and glean the learning in the stillness while holding on expectantly to what’s just around the corner.
The “bright places” to which the dear Dr. Seuss refers perhaps can be found now, as well as then. The here and the there. The present and the future. Maybe it’s found in the enjoyment of a meal, or a conversation with a friend. Maybe the season you’re in lends itself to celebration for how far you’ve come, or preparation for something new, or rest after a storm. Wherever you find yourself now, you can be certain that the energy of life will continue to move us forward, that changes will occur, and that the pause will never last that long.
Perhaps in our moments of waiting we can embrace our constant fear and remind it that this same energy will find us again, with a fresh dream or goal or challenge. Stay with the fear long enough until it hears your steady voice, until the breath of assurance comes easy, and until the pregnant pause of expectancy allows you to Be.
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