waiting is often difficult.
it requires this thing called patience, which is a trait I swear I wasn't born with. I've been working to develop it, and have increased my stores of it substantially over the years. but I also swear I'm using it up at a pace which far exceeds my ability to replenish. by this thursday it's possible I'll be completely out of it, and start working into the negative. not sure what happens then.
but back to waiting.
the last few months have been filled--overflowing--with waiting.
my son, and thus I, too, have been waiting to hear about college: acceptances, scholarships, financial aid, housing. argh.
I have been waiting to hear from agent after agent I have queried about my book project.
every day I wait for the phone to ring/the fax to spit/email to pop up with orders for my company.
I've spent hours and days waiting for the rain to stop.
each day I wait for the mail, hoping for checks and other forms of good news.
and now I wait to hear from lotoja, to be told whether or not I get to spend the next four and a half months training for the never-ending day-long ride.
it all fits this pattern: waiting for someone/thing/group/institution to tell me (us) they want me (us).
I have this fantasy that someday the mail will pile up, I'll avoid my phone, I'll have to hire someone to deal with my email because everyone, at the same time, will decide they want me.
doors will open, I will be ushered through. offers will come to me, I will be begging for peace and quiet and time to go ride my bike by myself, whenever and wherever I want.
for now, though, my son and I wait. we wait for the powers that be to make their decisions, to assess and evaluate our offerings. and we work to strengthen our cores, those parts of us that hold our self-worth and esteem, so that we can take the answer when it eventually comes. we steel ourselves for the no-thank-you's, the not-this-time's, the not-a-good-fit explanations. and we hope for the yes, we tell ourselves we've earned it, we're good enough, we are the right one at the right time.
I receive no's daily, delivered by silent phones and pleasantly understanding emails.
I take these in daily, and patch myself with a little more mortar, then I go ride my bike.
knowing that someday I won't have time to ride my bike, and I'll look back at today with longing.
yep, that's how it goes.