Waiting in the Rain
I’m really glad it is raining today. It gives me a chance to sit inside and not feel bad for wasting another sunny day. Not that I waste sunny days, I definitely take advantage, but much of what I enjoy doing these days are activities that take place inside. It’s nice to feel like I am doing the right thing by being inside and not feeling guilty about it.
I like sitting by the window and feeling the breeze. The type of rain is coming down now that doesn’t really bother anyone, light and transparent and constant. Rainy days make me nostalgic for some reason; I get to thinking about being younger again. I don’t know why.
It has something to do with getting on a school bus. Waiting for the bus in the rain was one of my happiest times as a youth. I used to really like going to school. There was something about this huge engine roaring up the block, this huge shuttle coming to pick me up. Like a soldier from an extraction point. I didn’t want to miss the chopper.
If you missed the chopper, it kind of stalled your day. The bus is an ever-moving entity that only comes during a specific amount of time and if you’re there to catch it, it transports you into the future. I guess missing it could be said to do the same, you know, you definitely wind up somewhere, back in your kitchen and smelling your mom’s coffee and listening to her repeat over and over how she can’t believe you didn’t catch the bus. But the bus has more of a sense of urgency, more of a sense of moving forward.
I used to sit in the seat that had the heater under it, because no one else could stand the heat. I loved it. I’d strip down and just stare out the window at the wet world, like I was in some sort of cocoon. I really liked the green seats of the bus as well, and how each set of seats was cut off from the rest, each one was like a cubbyhole or small room or home.
Waiting in the rain and getting on and riding around in a school bus are a fond memory for me and I guess that’s why I’ll always enjoy the rain. Being wet and being comfortable are amazing things to feel after each other, and nestled in my green seat sitting above the hum of the school bus heater, I had an overwhelming sense that the world was great.
Waiting For Something to Happen
Waiting can be fun or it can be devastating. If you order a new book in the mail, you can’t wait for it to come. But if you’re in the hospital because you’re arm is hanging from its socket, waiting can be hell.
This dichotomy surrounds so many aspects of life; the yin and yang, the bitter and sweet, etc. There’s always this balance to the world; sometimes you’re on top of it and sometimes it’s on top of you.
What if all waiting feels the same? What if we just make waiting what it is?
Personally, I try not to wait for anything anymore. Though I find waiting to be exciting, I often find myself waiting too much, waiting for fall to start, waiting to write a post “On Waiting,” waiting to go for a run. The anticipation of such events can often be better than the actually event itself. The thought of achieving the event is easier than simply doing it, so instead of making it happen, we wait for it to happen.
So now here is the point where the words are stopping; the end of the page is coming and you’re waiting for the end. What will the end bring? Don’t wait for it, just read it, read it until it is over, until this sentence is complete.