Playing the waiting game isn’t my strongest point or favourite thing in the world. I don’t like waiting. Call it impatience. Blame it on waiting for my mother to pick me up from creche, school, caregivers’ places and her often not pitching up.
I am a fan of certainty. The unknown and undecided leave me shaking and uncomfortable. My task right now is to live in the uncertainty and revel in the possibilities that are open in this space. This space that provides no support, no answers just a state of flux. If you knew the physical symptoms I endure due to the insecurity, you’d pity me – restless nights, unsettled stomach, pointed anxiety and overall emotional vulnerability.
Right now, my existence is chaotic at a stretch. One email will mean that my entire existence (and identity) will be turned on its head and I will be thrust into a void of the unknown, unfamiliar and an absolutely desired state of being. This email will mean that I’ll resign, give notice to my landlord, end contracts, crush my housemate and negotiate terms of engagement with my boyfriend. I will prepare to leave the country (and continent), wrap up my affairs, study for a year and come back home to my possessions in storage and little to no money to my name. I will be dependent on my friends and family at that stage. This after nearly ten years of wonderful independence.
It is tough not playing out scenarios in your head. It is hard to formulate compassionate sentences when you’re removing the ground beneath people’s feet and making difficult decisions regarding someone else’s emotions. I’ve been in easier positions in my life; harder no, easier, definitely.
But in this moment, I am sitting with the endless possibilities. I am looking at life through so many lenses, none quite smudge-free. The grey clouds that hang over the mountain toy with my feelings nudging at my inability to endure this moment with whispers of “Let it be. Just be. Allow life to happen. Trust the universe.” And I want to. I desperately truly want to. I’ve been disappointed enough to actively resist hope. Yet it is true and I am hopeful, in spite of and regardless of all that was, all that is and all that is yet to be.
Look around you. The trees, flowers, birds, every animal and insect; every living thing. Its miraculous. And it is all going to die. You will too, and so will all of those you love. The time will come when you will have to say good-bye to people. You don’t know when. It could be tomorrow or next week. Yet, we live as if it will never happen. We get angry with our children or our partner, then leave for the day or longer, forgetting that if something terrible were to befall them, our last words would have been words of resentment and frustration, not love. And we would have to find a way to live with that by Robert White