Argggh. Isn’t this plane going to take off soon?
Late, late. This sucks. I’m so tired. That’s all I needed was another hour added to this already-long flight. So annoying.
What kinds of thoughts enter your mind if you’re waiting?
Yes, ANY kind of waiting. Waiting for a phone call. Waiting to hear about the job. Waiting in line. Waiting for morning. Waiting for the holiday. Waiting for the results of the test. Waiting to eat. Waiting to become enlightened.
What does it feel like to wait?
Irritating. Worrisome. Infuriating. Heart-wrenching. Sad. Frightening. Uncomfortable. Boring.
Who would you be without this story of waiting?
What an astonishing question!
Who would I be without the belief that I am actually waiting?
What is waiting anyway? A feeling like we’re not there yet, or don’t have something yet, or right now is unfinished or not quite all of it.
Who would I be without that belief, in this moment while sitting on an airplane noticing we are not moving, hearing the anxious voice of a passenger many rows behind me ask when we’re taking off?
Peaceful. Noticing slow and fast, anticipating and willing to also be here, no demand something change now, for my personal benefit.
Ready to see where this goes (this day, this moment, this empty space).
Maybe even very excited. Full of wonder about this mysterious unknown moment, with unknown things in it, and an unknown future.
Turning it around: I am not waiting. In this moment, there is nothing missing, nothing anticipated, nothing impending, nothing to worry about.
No lack of knowledge, no such thing as “late”, no lack of bliss or absent enlightenment or awareness. Nothing happening before it’s time, or too soon.
Could this be just as true?
What’s OK, or even wonderful, about this moment sitting in a quiet plane that isn’t moving?
I relax with eyes closed. I feel the chair beneath me. I hear sounds. I picture needing to spend the night in an airport somewhere because of a missed connecting flight, and realize it doesn’t matter if I do–that would be an interesting adventure.
I hear the voices in my head that call for inquiry, and notice I have nothing else more interesting to do right now than The Work. I get out my laptop and begin to write. No need to turn my phone back on.
My four major projects I hope to work on during this trip seem suddenly possible, fun, and not so overwhelming. I have time. I love time.
Who am I without my belief that the plane should be moving, when it isn’t…that I’m waiting right now (as the plane begins to move) or that the flight itself is a waiting zone?
Without the belief in waiting, I’m very clear, just doing what’s next, one thing at a time. Feeling love for anything that flashes in my inner vision. Watching the backs of peoples’ adorable heads when I look up, all the glorious shapes and sizes and colors and hair.
Resting.
Even with that old outdated repetitive thought about enlightenment being somewhere else, or in other people who aren’t me….
….I’m simply being. Here.
You Reading This, Be Ready
Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?
Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now?
Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?
When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day.
This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life–
What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room,
when you turn around?
~ William Stafford
Without the stressful story of waiting, I’m here.
I may not have chosen it, I can’t say I prefer it to something else….
….but this is all a mystery, I’m not in charge.
I respect what’s appeared.
Seeing, smelling, hearing, being this one that I apparently am right now, connected to the world, breathing this gift.
Much love,
Grace
