The Waiting Place

You might laugh if you took a look at my organizer. It’s not electronic; just an old fashioned planner. I like the feel of pen to paper (That’s why I write all of my blogs and poetry in a journal before I type them on a computer). I enjoy actively crossing something off of a list-not deleting it on an iPhone. My brain just won’t get in line with electronic planning. I need to see it in front of me. I am a highly visual learner and get overwhelmed if all of my commitments and To-do’s aren’t logged and categorized.

That’s right. Categorized.

By colored post-it; then in labeled lists: To email. To Call. To Pay. To write.

You may interpret it as neurotic. And I can certainly get behind giving that theory some creed. But the fact is, when it’s written down, I do it. It happens. I’m efficient.

I plan for everything.

Consequently, I’m always prepared even when I’m not supposed to be. Someone else is responsible for bringing the snacks to the playground? I guarantee I have a secret stash in my emergency bag in my car.

Yep; an emergency bag for my children. It’s filled with water, food, a complete first aid kit (including flares and one of those crinkly silver warmth blankets you get after a big race), puzzles, changes of clothes, blankets, towels and bathing suits. In the winter you can sub “towels and bathing suits” with “extra sweaters and hats”.

I don’t keep a huge amount of these things in the car. I simply have just a few basic what-if’s because, you know, what if?

This preparedness and, yes, mom, control, create one problem for me:

I run early.

Always.

I have given wherever I need to be complete thought a few days before I have to be there. I have everything I need ready before it becomes time to get ready. And, because getting ready hovers over me like a red-penned-and-highlighted entry on my to-do list, I get the getting ready done so that I can be calm and enjoy life.

I am forever arriving wherever I need to be completely early. Therefore, I find myself in the waiting place.

I should be familiar with the waiting place by now. We all should. We are taught to wait from the time we are children. We need to wait to be read to until after mommy finishes paying a bill. We need to delay gratification of a gift until a special holiday.

As we get older, we wait to hear from a College Admission Board.

About an audition. A job interview. A loan.

We wait for a call back; results from the doctor.

As parents, that waiting blooms with spikes. Any mother or father who is late for an appointment (or, in my case, 10 minutes early [which is late for me]) can shout hallelujah and testify to the grace it takes to wait for a toddler to put on their shoes or walk down the stairs “all by myself!”.

To wait for the 6 year old to put together one last Lego piece when dinner is on the table.

To patiently stick it through a week of screaming and potty training.

Yes, the waiting place is a tough place to be.

But, sometimes, it’s a good place to be, too.

My brother gave me a book once called Getting in the Gap. It’s a paperback how to guide to meditation. The purpose is to try to find quiet space between one’s thoughts.

My mind bubbles with activity and energy. It is never hushed. You can understand then, that I was skeptical.

But, guess what? I didn’t make it through the book because the very first chapter spoke to me.

Now, remember, I am highly visual. I should also tell you that though I love Yoga and meditative based exercise, meditation itself has never worked for me. I can not get my brain to turn off.

However, Dr. Dyer, the author, explains the technique so clearly that I am able to do it in moments of extreme stress.

He suggests that you visualize the first 10 words of The Lord’s Prayer: (granted, this is not a prayer that I frequent, but of course I can recite it) Our Father Who Art In Heaven, Hallowed Be Thy Name”.

Close your eyes.

Separate out the first word in your head: Our

Now, what I do is make the word really big. All capital letters.

Take a moment and, still in your mind with your eyes closed, piece apart only the “O” and the “U” in OUR.

Keep those eyes closed and trace the “O” a few times with the inside of your eyes. Then trace the “U”. Go very slowly. Methodically.

Now, go back to the “O” again. This time though, after you’ve traced the “O” and you are about to make the move to the “U”, stop.

Stop right in between the two letters.

Pause there for just a second.

See how your mind is focused on the space between the two? Notice how it’s quiet there?

That’s The "Gap".

That’s where you want to be.

It’s kind of dark and calm and cool. It’s completely yours.

The more you meditate on the words (and they can be any words really, they don’t necessarily have to be The Lord’s Prayer) the better you get at making your time in the gap longer and quieter.

It gives me a moment or two to look around and take note.

To retrieve some clarity.

To claim the time for reflection.