Wait a minute while I ponder

THE ART OF WAITING:

I waited. And I waited. Any time now, I thought. Any time now. 

But still inspiration didn’t come. Every week I pen these in-depth educational articles on an essential life skill and while I am guilty of tending to rely on the exhaustive researching of a subject, it doesn’t usually take too long for an idea of how I can blag it to arrive.

But I sat, tightly, patience being the most desirable of virtues in such a situation.

The Art of Waiting? Hmm.

I stared into space for a bit, allowing my lower jaw to slacken slightly.

I was having a gaping do which is as good an activity as any to pursue while you’re paused and biding your time.

I tapped my forehead three times. Any minute now, I thought.

I looked at the clock. It was ticking, slowly. Tick, tock. Tick. Tock. And then it stopped. Time stood still. The battery had gone.

Luckily for me, this wasn’t the worst kind of waiting.

I could have been bursting for the loo, stuck in queue behind 42 others at a festival.

I could have been a pregnant woman, 13 days overdue and not impressed at all.

I could have been stood in the rain, having just been dumped, waiting for a taxi that should have arrived an hour ago.

Even so, panic began to set in. Would my wait ever be over, I wondered?

It isn't unusual when waiting to feel like it will last forever, mainly because a bit of self-indulgent drama can interrupt the monotony momentarily.

Eventually though, with all sense of rationality having gone out the window, and after waiting for a decent idea for hours, like the proverbial bus, three ideas suddenly came at once. And they were all rubbish.

One of them was, “you could mention waiting tables and how, ironically, it’s actually the customer who has to wait in most restaurants. Often for hours!”

I assume you’re glad I ignored that one.

And when, you must be wondering, did inspiration finally arrive?

At Victoria station on platform 4, waiting for a train in my wellies.




Next week . . . the Art of Breathing.