Like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers lamented,
‘The waiting is the hardest part.’
There are so many pieces to waiting: anticipation, excitement, fear of the unknown, getting your hopes up, inevitably getting down on yourself, wanting to talk about it, wanting to talk about absolutely anything else, wanting to do something, feeling helpless because there’s nothing you can do, feeling confident, overthinking it and consequently feeling self-conscious and frankly silly for being so confident.
It’s hard to wait. It’s hard to face the unknown. It doesn’t feel good. Life, my dear old friend, life, is not nice and neat. It does not unfold in a predictable way, and you don’t always get to decide when the waiting is over.
Waiting, and being forced to wait, is truly an art. I have never been particularly good at waiting. Delaying gratification? Sure. But waiting? Not so much. I find it incredibly easy to fixate. It feels like home.
My challenge: to stop worrying about things I have no control over. To be mindful in these situations, and keep myself from experiencing a loss spiral for something I haven’t actually lost. I’m really good at foreboding, and not only does it make me feel worse while I wait, but it does nothing to ease the pain if/when my fears become reality. Here’s to experiencing life as it happens, not trying to predict the future and get my feelings over with already.