Just Wait Until… Right Now

In-Between Times Experiment #15

Over the course of my very busy September, I found myself constantly thinking: Just wait until this week is over…

Or more specifically, Just wait until this bar mitzvah is over… in 12 more days… in 9 more days… in 5 more days…

Through the daily marathons of work, school events, cleaning, preparing, finalizing and executing party details, I caught myself holding my breath as I raced to complete tasks.

Chest full, throat closed, intoning, Just wait… Just wait… like a mantra.

The bar mitzvah is over. It came off beautifully three weeks ago. But wouldn’t you know, just days after the celebration, I was holding my breath again as that thought popped back up with a slightly different flavor, Just wait until we’re settled into the school year…

It finally occurred to me to wonder…  Wait… for what?

What exactly is it that I seem to be constantly putting off in this moment “for later”? What am I telling myself I don’t have the time or energy for now that I’ll suddenly be able to do after whatever hurdle is before me? What am I not allowed to feel yet that I might earn the right to feel at some point down the road?

When I push myself to answer these questions, to finish the sentence Just wait until X is over with…, the answers take me aback.

THEN I’ll be able to relax.

THEN I’ll take in and appreciate this moment.

THEN I’ll stop worrying so much.

THEN I’ll rest.

THEN I’ll have more time to do something I love, something I want to do, something that’s important to me.

Hmm. This list is all the “good stuff” we all want to feel and experience in life! But my brain is telling me it has to be first/then. First you eat your vegetables, then you can have dessert. First you do your homework, then you can watch TV.

I guess it makes a little sense. Ordering our experiences is sometimes unavoidable.

If I love taking a certain yoga class, and I have to stay home and wait for the plumber instead of going to my class, it isn’t physically possible to be in both places at the same time. So, I am, in fact putting off yoga.

But… I’m afraid that most of the time, my brain is just making up black-and-white, false dichotomies.

If I can’t be stretching out in savasana, then I have to feel grumpy and suffer right now.

If I’m folding laundry, then I need to keep worrying about the writing I’m not getting done while I do it.

If I’m pestering my kid about practicing their instrument, then I can’t feel joyful or loving.

If we’re not careful, we can easily “just wait” our lives away. When we tell ourselves that the thing we’re doing right now isn’t that important, or doesn’t matter, it ends up being too many moments of our lives that we experience as not important and not mattering.

I began to wonder, might there be way to approach these in-between times of life that doesn’t require me to wait interminably for some fantasy tomorrow that’s totally clear of obligations and anxieties, which never seems to arrive?

Can I be relaxed right now, waiting for the plumber?

Can I take in beauty in this moment right now, while creating a presentation for a client?

Can I practice releasing anxiety right now, while I also carry the laundry up to the bedroom?

Can I find a way to make this moment of corralling my kid to practice an “important moment,” one that reconnects me to my deepest values?

Is there a way to practice living the in-between times of life so I’m not just constantly “on hold,” waiting for life circumstances, my schedule, the perfect moment to feel and experience “the good stuff” of life?

The Experiment

I love devising experiments that transform abstract questions like these into something concrete. Something I can do to shake up these unhelpful loops I get stuck in.

At first, I considered making Both/And post-its and strewing them around my house, my car, etc., to remind myself to remember and experience some of the “good stuff” in life alongside the inevitable harried and hard stuff.

But then, I started playing around with the phrase, Just wait…, wondering: What if every time I hear myself say “Just wait until…,” I finish the sentence with right now?

Just wait until… right now.

Just wait until this moment. This moment when I’m sitting here on my couch trying to write while simultaneously coaxing an overtired middle schooler to stay focused on homework, while my eyelids insist on drooping over my scratchy, tired eyes.

It’s not a Hallmark-pretty moment. But when I think, Just wait until now, my brain begins to find all the ways that this hard, tired-mama moment is exactly something I am longing for: a moment of creativity and meaning mixed with a smidge of love, peace, and gratitude—for my healthy kid, the fluffy pillow under my arm, the cozy music playing in the background.

Just wait until right now.

Because the present moment is always both/and. Just because I’m tired and crabby doesn’t mean I have to put off feeling any of that rich and beautiful stuff that’s also here right now.

I invite you to try this with me this month. To catch yourself saying, “I just have to wait until…”, and to finish your sentence with “right now.”

Let’s explore what happens when our attention shifts from some imaginary, utopian tomorrow, to all the ways that right now is already fulfilling our truest aims.

And then, let’s “just wait” and see where this experiment takes us…