What Are We Waiting For?
Waiting, it is such an interesting game is it not? To hold in suspension everything that exists until such time as we feel that it becomes 'our' time. As the clock ticks by, so too, do we. Where is it that we are headed as we hold ourselves in abeyance. How is it that we have checked ourselves out of life in order to center the universe upon our own existence? Do we count for so much as to really believe in ourselves?
Or are there other purposes in store for us which we cannot yet fathom?
Slowly making our way to death's door, what could possibly be held over us in order to skip ahead, closer to our doom. As we wait for the bus to arrive, our pondering becomes lost in meaningless idle chatter. As we wait for the appropriate 'signs' we rhythmically tap our foot in order to keep time and as the world turns, we hang on for dear life. What does it matter what happens when our waiting leads the list of things to do while on planet Earth.
In passing, perhaps our death will come to mean more than our life. If so, we die so that others may live, but in the entertainment world we say "Break a leg!". Put on a good show for all to see since by birthright, few indeed see anything at all.
Waiting in the watch tower, we keep the time honored tradition alive by just being. Another ploy to kill time, another way to pass such a destitute and dreary existence. Why not embrace the enemy who shall surely put one to death? Is it not quicker and less painful than looking in the mirror and seeing not the reflection, but the reality?
Escaping the ghosts which come to haunt us, our waiting always bears fruit, though bitter and foul. To taste of life is to be overcome.
Perhaps we wait for the overcoming to come to an end. And so as we endlessly toil upon the land of our fore-fathers we bear no fruit and do it again and again. With a troubled heart we wait and wonder for our just fate. Smiling to ourselves in the mirror, we marvel at our handiwork completely overwhelmed with our physicality. What is there to wait for when we have so many things to do and say?
Waiting comes to be embraced by the busy as they have no time for anything else while the one who is in harmony with the universe has all the time of infinity. With one, a tiny fraction of existence, while the other is existence itself.
The next time you find yourself waiting for something perhaps it may be best to recognize that nothing is in wait for anything.