a few words about miss chelsea elizabeth...

she likes: making kites, dancing in the rain, adventures, little-while friends, letters, whole-leaf tea, crayons, bare feet, jumping in rivers/streams/creeks/waterfalls, language, catching the clock as it changes numbers, sleepovers, trains (big or small), cuddling & waking up before the sun rises, among other random things.

oregon-born, seattle-raised, bellingham-bred and franco-refined, she had moved back to the states from her affairs across the atlantic & now resides in columbia city with french husband & love of her life rémy. they spend most of their time taming the garden, taking care of their three chickens & two cats, and preparing the urban homestead for a new little chick of their own.

Friday, January 9, 2009

the waiting game

time is a tricky thing.

we get so caught up in planning our future and analyzing our past. focusing on what we'll do tomorrow and talking about yesterday. we forget that these are abstract concepts that exist no where but within our minds. it will never be tomorrow just as it will never be yesterday. it has always been and always will be this present moment. the eternal paradox of time is that now is all there is.

so how do you deal with it? the notion that time does not flow around us like sand in an hourglass, but rather that we move around a stagnant time, embellishing it with numbers and fancy clocks. when you know that you can move neither forwards nor backwards but must always remain in the same place, for all of eternity? that becoming fully aware of the present moment is the only way to face life?

it used to be a comfort to me. whenever i found my self in a precarious situation i would simply remind myself that whether i liked it or not, eventually it would be a different day and i would no longer be in that moment. while bored at work, while hard pressed for time during finals, while stuck in the mountains in taiwan on a scooter during a typhoon, i could trust that even if i was not still alive to appreciate it, inevitably this wretched moment would pass and some other events would take its place.

of course it works both ways. while enjoying the sunset on sharp cliffs overlooking the spanish mediterranean (and knowing that i got there powering myself on my bicycle); while staring down at the valleys of the north cascades from a mountain peak; while standing under the largest buddha made of gold in a temple in mountainous taiwan; while sleepily lying in my lover's arms - i know that all of these are only moments, small pieces of fabric in the elaborate quilt of time. i know that they will pass and i know that i will never experience that moment ever again. it's part of what makes life so beautiful.

but this time it's killing me.

i know this day will come. i know that it's nearing the end, and is fast-approaching. but i simply can't understand my lack of control. why can i not simply will today to become tomorrow? why can't i meditate my way to next wednesday evening? because i've been waiting five months for this waiting game to end and the last five days are proving excruciating. this is pure and simple limbo and it's driving me insane.

i watch the second and minute hands change. i see links on my chain of days disappear. i watch days on the calendar crossed off, but it doesn't feel any different because he's still not here. 80 days or eight, it's all the same to me. i'm stuck in this waiting game and i'm not sure if there's even a way to out. is patience ignorance or facing time with grace? i'm not so sure, and knowing an answer won't make me get to wednesday any faster. so i suppose i'll just hang on to this moment and let go of my attempts to control it, watch the seconds dissolve and shapeshift their way into others. and soon enough, as has always been true, today will be a modified tomorrow and my prince will come.