On waiting

It’s not an activity.

Waiting tables at a restaurant is an activity of course. And a tedious one at that. Waiting at a table in a restaurant is not though. Or at least in many cases it shouldn’t be.

After I was done with school I spent one year abroad. The organisation I went with was amazing and they took great care of us. Among other things, we had workshops and seminars preparing us for what to expect.

Most of my memories regarding these events are quite vague and I can’t really recall what we did.

I remember some roleplaying.
I remember some team building.
I remember some lessons on history.

But there is one piece of advice that I remember as clear as day.

“Never wait.” My memory on this is so clear because it is a piece of advice that I use quite frequently. And it is a piece of advice that I am very grateful for to this day. It applies far beyond my experience of staying abroad.

As a sentence consisting of only two words, the same advice could also be very poor. It lends itself to various interpretations – some of them not very useful to daily life.

A lot of things are worth waiting for. Some things are even worth a very long wait. But waiting in itself is not a fulfilling activity.

For the longest time when I had one appointment – let’s say at 2pm – that would take up my entire day. It didn’t even matter if the appointment itself lasted for only 5 minutes.

The entire day leading up to that moment I would be busy waiting. That, obviously, led to me having much less time. Or rather, it led to me having a lot of time that I couldn’t use. Time that was spent somewhere in between. I did not even allow myself to be bored in these moments. I was busy waiting.

The reason I was given the advice to begin with was that at my destination people are notoriously late. And if people are late, everything else is too. A lot of stuff that is supposed to happen doesn’t. It rarely happens the way it was planned.

Doesn’t matter – I’ve got something to do.

That is the result of her advice.

Her recommendation was to always carry at least a book with us. Which I still do most days. It feels anachronistic. It also feels like there is no alternative.

These days I have plenty of things to do. Even without a book. The bigger value to me now is that waiting doesn’t steal my capacity for taking care of something else.

Still, there are loads of situations where I have to wait. And sometimes I almost slip back into the habit of accepting waiting as my main activity for that moment in time.

Then I remember her advice. Never wait. And I am grateful.

There is a downside: Sometimes I get so drawn into whatever it is that I chose to do, that I am the one who is late.

Looking at it from that perspective, maybe the reason for everybody being late is that nobody ever waits.

And there is something to be said for time spent in between too. I do think it is valuable. But it is better if that time comes about as something taken. Not as a result of being busy waiting.

It is perfectly fine to just be sitting somewhere.

All I know is, that particular piece of advice worked well for me. And I wouldn’t want to miss it.

–

That day, she also gifted each of us one kernel of corn. For the life of me I can not remember why. And admittedly, it does seem weird now.

I held on to it for a long time though. It must’ve been valuable to me.

A symbol for something, I am sure.