What Is Waiting For Me? - These Thiings
So I’m waiting. I’m waiting on something? No. I’m waiting for something to arrive? No. I’m waiting for something that may arrive? No, that’s not it either. I’m waiting on something to go away? These keep coming to me a thousand times a day as questions and I feel like I’m waiting. But waiting for what? Maybe waiting on what?
What from my life before this disruption, this possibly probable thing I’m waiting for or on, is essential? What does before mean in the middle, if we’re even in the middle, of something? What does after mean? How do these contextualize “now”?
Maybe you’re like me and waiting for, or on, or maybe? Maybe, like me, these questions seem ominous and then ridiculous? How many years of human thought got us to maybe? The possibility of multiple outcomes from a single event: maybe.
Am I, as Colin Hay asks in his song, “waiting for my real life to begin”? Or is it a darker question like Leonard Cohen poses in his song “Waiting for the Miracle”?
Ah I don't believe you'd like it
You wouldn't like it here
There ain't no entertainment
And the judgements are severe
And then later in the bridge:
Nothing left to do
When you've got to go on waiting
Waiting for the miracle to come
If you listen to the song, what do you think is the miracle the characters are waiting for? Or is the miracle a MacGuffin, some distraction, some inconsequential thing that keeps us waiting rather than living? I don’t know what Cohen is getting at. But I feel something there.
A friend on Facebook posted, wait, she’s not a friend on Facebook. She’s a friend from my real life. We studied poetry together and what it means to be human and find ways to express that. She’s a real person who I enjoy being with and haven’t spoken to in years now. What am I waiting on? She, Kat, posted on Facebook a few days ago:
It’s so weird that there is literally nowhere to go.
Well, that immediately filled me with existential dread and my mind, trying to find a way out thinks he’ll be clever and remember the Gertrude Stein quote, “there is no there there” anyway. It doesn’t help. Sure, it helps to remember a story shaped to life by another as an expression of what it means to be human. Yes, there’s something reassuring, especially for me right now, about story.
I agree with you Kat, there’s nowhere to go so what do I do with my time? And isn’t “time” a word I can use here because it’s less intimidating than asking, “What do I do with my life now that this current contextualization makes me think all I can do is wait?”
So there’s nowhere to go and I’m sitting in my office that I’ve been wanting to, needing to, organize for the way I want to live my life and it hit me just yesterday–what can I do today that two weeks ago I would find some distraction to keep from facing it, at least putting it off until the last minute? What vices would I turn to to maintain what was then “normalcy”? What was then normalcy? What am I waiting for? What can I do?
First, the “bureaucracy of life” things that have to get done anyway:
File annual report for Sunset Grove Media LLC.
Figure out how to pay the Secretary of State for sales tax I’ve collected which my tax accountant said I should have filed quarterly anyway.
Get up to date on bookkeeping for the film festival. BTW, did you know “bookkeeping is the only word in English with three consecutive pairs of letters? Is my mind distracting me again from feeling?
Organize my office so that the bicycle gear and camera gear aren’t comingling.
Ok, I can handle these. But aren’t these too distractions? That is, I can create and maintain a to do list that won’t be done when I die. What am I really waiting for?
...there is literally nowhere to go.
This is so hard. It’s like my life is right in front of me, waiting for me to begin living it, waiting for me to face fear of failure as a poet, as a filmmaker, as a musician. Waiting for me to be done with distraction. Waiting for me to not drink myself into “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
What if my life is already here, and it’s waiting on me? What if I stopped waiting, stopped distracting myself, and just started living my life? What could that include?
Complete a collection of poems.
Start another collection of poems.
Finish writing a tune for the cigar box guitar.
Make a short film about love and relationships but we see people on bicycles.
Complete the treatment and screenplay for the Poco a Poco film project.
Now we’re getting somewhere in this infinite space of nowhere to go.
Am I waiting for my real life to begin or is my real life waiting for me to begin?
Valerie: Do you think it will work?
Miracle Max: It would take a miracle.
* * *
As I’ve been waiting, I have been inspired recently by These Things:
World Healing Heart Meditation - My friend Terri recorded this meditation that I have found to be so helpful for me in this weird time. It’s a simple but very powerful meditation that focuses light from the sun, through the heart, in order to heal ourselves and the planet. If you’ve never tried meditation, this is a great one to try. Thanks Terri.
Global Bike Festival - Filmed by Bike is going virtual on Saturday, April 4! If you love riding a bicycle, get on a bicycle. If you love watching people’s stories of how they love bicycling, check this out.
Shaun of the Dead PSA - Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are so funny in this PSA that’s actually quite informative as they take on their roles from Shaun of the Dead.
Why Speaking to Yourself in the Third Person Makes You Wiser - aka illiem. Evidently, science is finding that if you practice talking with yourself in the third person, you become more compassionate and wiser too.
8 At-Home Workouts to Lose Weight and Build Muscle - Ugh, along with daily bike rides, I gotta figure this out now that I’m waaay more sedentary working from home.
Grace - my dad is a musician, a pianist. He recorded some of his favorite hymns a few years ago and I’m finding immense peace, and grace, listening to these.
Stay well lovely people,
Jeff O.