Tag: waiting

Ready, Set, Go. . . and Wait?

Felt backed 'leaves' as a table runner.

Are we ready? Can we ever be entirely ready? Bill and I finally came to an agreement late last year after my father died that we ought to apply for an apartment in a retirement community that would take a future burden of care off our daughter and extended family.

My parents had moved to such a community over a decade ago and had been happy with that decision. They modeled for me a lifestyle there that I could see was freeing and that offered community connections.

Bill was hesitant — in part because he had given so much time and artistry to crafting our small house to be a place in which we could age in place. But as he approached 80 and no longer spent time on wood working in his fully equipped basement — and as he became unable to do the “groundskeeper” tasks he had so loved, he was a convert to selling and moving. The house had become a burden.

So we looked at retirement communities and applied for an apartment in one we liked that was near our daughter and my sibs. We were accepted and put on a waiting list for apartments we felt were a match to our needs and finances. That meant downsizing from our 1600 sq ft house to an apartment of 1000-1200 sq ft.

Doesn’t sound too hard, does it? But because of health reasons, Bill couldn’t do much sorting of belongings. I took over finances and driving and appointment-making for the most part. To add the sorting and downsizing to that? Yikes! I’ve been able to do most of what needs to be done to narrow down what we will take. Maybe I’ve done too well . . .

We are as ready as I think we can be with ‘things’ but we are on a waiting list that is likely two years or more. Waiting. We are among the baby boomers who suddenly realize that all the working out, brain games, and workplace relationships may not be enough in later years to ensure that we can take care of ourselves and live forever in good health. The waiting lists seem longer each day.

I know my resilience and optimistic self has returned in some measure because my answer to the waiting list is to find ways to create beauty and color. I’ve continued sewing and making new things (the above felted fall leaves table runner and placemats are almost done), crafting wire and bead jewelry. And I’m about to see if I can still have fun with watercolor.

Life is too wonderful to just wait for it to pass on a waiting list. Hopefully time will allow us to eventually move into an apartment of a comfortable size and begin to connect with family and a community (I’m frequently lonely here in the Lehigh Valley — but that’s for another blog). Until then, I’m going to find ways to connect with friends here and to continue downsizing what no longer fits who we are — and creating what does. That is what gives me life.

Waiting . . .

What are you waiting for?

Waiting is a pause, a looking away from the now, an interval, a delay.

Waiting can be a movement away from mindfulness of the present moment as we wait for something to come that is missing from our life right now. Or it can be a momentary pause to breathe, settle, ground ourselves, and to be ready for what is coming.

I have often wasted time waiting for something to arrive that I thought would make my life better, and in doing so, I have missed seeing or experiencing whatever was happening in the present. I waited for difficult situations to pass, for an expected job offer to arrive, for a tough class to be finished, for the retreat I was preparing for to begin, for the root canal appointment (!) to be over and done with. And the time I spent waiting — at least the time I spent just wishing that whatever I was waiting for would arrive now — was lost time when I was not paying attention to anything but avoiding the present moment.

Waiting sometimes feels like punishment. It is actually avoidance, whether conscious or not. When I began to use spiritual practices like meditation and mindful walking, my awareness of the fullness of the present moment astonished me. What I suddenly heard, smelled, felt in my body, saw all around me was an abundance of life. Birds I hadn’t heard, dappled light changing patterns of color and light and shadow, the distant train whistle, the softness of grass in contrast to the roughness of dry ground, clouds that raced and others that moseyed. I was dazzled and delighted. With my normal future-oriented consciousness (or unconsciousness!) and goal directed pace, I missed so much. And Creation offered so much fullness that I hadn’t seen, touched, tasted, heard, felt.

So, am I now transformed and fully conscious every moment of every day? Far from it. I get distracted by worries and waiting. I settle into a funk now and then. I rush to an appointment without tasting the rain-misted taste of the air. I forget to listen for birdcall or look for what shade of blue or teal or grey the sky is today.

But I find myself waiting much less often for something to happen or arrive. I am better at remembering to pause and breathe and step outside more often to spend a mindful moment just being present. And it changes my day every time I do.