Waiting.

Wanting something, ferociously, it can be painful. It can be like an unfairness to not have the answer right now. Entitlement must be a cancer that inadequacy fuels. I know the people, the ones who are able to take uncertainty as the obvious part of life it truly is. After all, don’t we all like surprises? Isn’t life only worth living because of the unknown? On this one instance though, I want an answer now. There is a part of my mind that feels I cannot possibly go on, performing at my job, interacting with people without this result of this one question. What does waiting do for me anyway, build character? I think I am fully developed. Do I have to keep building? When is it ever enough? The anticipation is this mix of uncertainty, an excitement, along with anxiety, lack of control. I cannot control this situation, nor the result. Even if you asked me what I would have wanted from this, I can’t say that I would have chosen correctly. I want God himself to interrupt his schedule, make the choice and then I can KNOW that it was the right one. 

Waiting got me like...

He does though. Our free will makes the path where we are allowed pleasures. Though, sometimes we need the discipline to remind us of a time to grow. Even children purposefully test boundaries of their parents, only to see how far they can get away with stuff. I go too far when left alone. I tend to think I am superior, despite what I KNOW. This is the best and worst parts of me. In one realm, it is the best to be the master of your own destiny, when in another, the realm of reality, it serves me best to submit, humiliation is necessary for me to succeed. I do my best work broken, and I ask God for help in doing work every day. I now have to abide by that when he answers, when he disciplines like I asked. Waiting is just that, another form of discipline, a request for I know better than to simply ask for things, I need a teacher. I need knowledge and wisdom. If I ever want to help anyone, I too have to have walked, to some respect, the same path. I cannot mimic empathy, but I need to actually have lived a closely relatable situation. This is what I asked for, and this is what I get. 

“But I don’t want it like that.” A complaint on how what I asked for was delivered. This as if I was asking my brothers to help me move, only to complain about the shoes they worse while doing it. The nerve. 

The pain comes not from my conscious thoughts, for I am fully aware of my own desires in life. What I asked for was material, this barely adds to my life. Success was a larger problem before, money too. However, things, like an office, a house, a car, those things seem shallow. Now I want to be closer to you God. I want to eradicate all the riff raff and instead focus on what my purpose is here, with the time. I am not dying by all dying’s standards, but I do have a time limit. Quite honestly, death seems like a shallow pain compared to this. The threshold of my nerves is like when you are running and instead of just running you look to the finish line, only to make every step a pain, versus enjoying the run. Unfortunately, the pain is caused by my own detriment. I looked to obtaining this one thing as though it would somehow validate me. I believed for so long that I was incomplete without the thing I wanted. I have wanted food before, when I was hungry. I have craved drink when I was thirsty. This thing however, has no NEED to exist. Instead, I want for the idea of wanting and what I am expected to have by a standard of living my mind has adapted since becoming self-aware. 

I do not have my thing though, and I won’t know if or when I get it for a few more days. My feeble self seems scared like the concern over the product will be so much that I will be unaware to perform. I fear crippling angst that rushes over me like a tsunami and drowns me in its depth. I fear my demise coming from my worry of a covering of some external and materialistic item. The ideas as humorous as they are scary. I know, but yet I fear. I remember as a child, playing and what I did with my time was the best. Now, I know that material stuff is what the world wants. There is a sense of necessary validation for school and work that this thing will oblige. 

It’s interesting how certain situations bring about feelings that I never knew existed. I truly have to live through some things to understand. This is man though. If we all KNEW and could recall heaven, none of us would ever want earth. No, that is just out of reach of experience right now. Instead I can only fathom. I can only take the pleasures I have felt and mixed them into some kind of understanding of what eternity will be like. A perfection I have never tasted. A stimulation that has no end. A love and warmth I imagine, that I have only found in books written by those closer to ideal than myself. With that being my goal, then why should any material thing matter here? Why would I allow a thing, made of man things, to suffice as any ending to my desire. If I were a better man, I think it would not mean a thing, but I am not him and therefore I am me. Maybe waiting reminds my conscious self of the nervous boy awaiting validation from other people. Maybe this time, right now, as I sit and write these words is the truest me and all other occurrences are a rendition. Maybe, I am scared because I am vulnerable, exposed for pain, when I have tried avoiding pain my entire life, even the pain that I KNEW would make me stronger. 

Maybe I am not waiting at all, maybe I am here and this situation shows me that. I might have misunderstood my emotions and instead of interpreting them as unfavorable, I am can see the truth that caused them and immerse in its clarity.  

For a story of self, click HERE. It's a book about, waiting, in a sense, for happiness, doing one thing to obtain it, where I missed the point completely.