What am I waiting for…? Nothing, and neither are you! You know why? Because time is the ultimate illusion. However, life doesn’t feel like that, does it – or at least my life doesn’t. It feels like….. I’m waiting for my past to catch-up, but try as it might it just can’t keep up with the train. And I’m waiting for my future to slow down, but it’s already barrelled ahead without a backwards glance. I’m ‘waiting’ for them to meet me in the middle to swap stories over an espresso martini but I know that this will never happen, because the past and the future are constructs of the mind. This is great entertainment for the mind; however, the mind has an audience of one egocentric masochist – hang on a minute, that’s me I’m talking about! ‘Waiting’ it’s such a self-indulgent pastime. We say that time is our most precious commodity. We have created our entire life to be appreciated and experienced inside time. And that is, on the one hand, exactly how our life is. Isn’t it. And, yet it isn’t. Is it. Time is instantaneous with no capacity for ‘waiting’. In all truth, we exist one breath at a time. But how do we live this life of ours without waiting? I suspect it points to living a life with purpose, but not having the purpose be a measure. Have ‘purpose’ be a vehicle to get somewhere but not a means to qualify how well you did in getting there, or not. Living life purposefully and living beyond purpose. Having one-pointed focus on what makes sense in real-time and what makes nonsense in unreal-time. Here's an idea. Could we manipulate the linear and plan both real-time and unreal-time into our schedules to serve both worlds? Could I ‘real-time-box’ for the practical, mundane and compulsory tasks that ensure my survival and the well-being of others? And equally, could I schedule-in ‘unreal-travel-time’ and throw the clock out of the window, ride a thought bubble into outer space and when it pops expand into all there ever was, is and will be? How to make sense of all of this - I’m not entirely sure. We were questioning ‘waiting.’ So, let’s have a little look at the contents of my head in this regard. Here are a few of my regular Groundhog Day soliloquies: I’m waiting for someone to say, ‘I think you’re beautiful and amazing, and I want to see what you’ve got hidden inside. Shine; render me sublimely blind – that’s an order!’ I’m waiting for someone to say, ‘you are golden. Like the ripened wheat under the summer breeze, and the heart of every child. Touch me with your dancing fingers and waken me with your song.’ I’m waiting to quit being the poet in search of its muse. I’m waiting to be bored of my inner diatribe that is as entertaining as paint drying. I’m waiting to be successful, before I even start I’m waiting to stop being so frikkin needy, seeking permission, approval and direction. Life. Time. This moment. Hold it all lightly on your open palm, like a dandelion seed. Now go on, give it a blow. Take delight in watching it take flight, helicoptering this-way-and-that, to land who knows where and take root, lay fallow and disintegrate or be taken further afield on a black bird’s wing – who knows…. but magical, isn’t it… William Blake invokes it quite perfectly: ‘To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand And eternity in an hour.’ It’s all a bit like that, don’t you think? A courteous nod in @BethKempton 's direction for continuing to ask the big questions...
Raw, real, unapologetic- love it!