...Waiting... 62 days and counting... count chocula - oh look a chicken!!Read Now
Waiting. I suspect neurotypical people wait. A lot. I suspect they do if for years on end. If I googled it - I am gonna guess about 3 to 4 years depending on where you live and whether or not you drive on the Don Valley Parking lot. Or take the TTC. Otherwise known as tedious and time consuming - or Take the Car -which could put you on Lake snore Boulevard. Driving is crazy making. Driving in Toronto is just crazy.
My ADHD brain just not get the concept of simply waiting. Although once about 24 years ago I came really close. Really close to getting myself tossed out a window onto the street. Really close to getting my socks stuffed into my mouth by my classmates. And really, really, really close to giving my acting class professor an aneurism. ( not that you can give them out but if I could I do have a short list)
The lesson - which I have since stolen and adapted was to learn about being in the moment. To be present and accepting - not just stand there and wait for your turn to say a line. This of course was super obvious to my brain - I have always said to myself and others -
"Where are you? HERE. What time is it? NOW. Does anything else matter? NO."
So as my brilliant teacher ( not sarcasm) was explaining the concept of the moment I had a rather smug look on my face. Apparently too smug. So I was selected to go sit on a painfully solid wood chair placed in the middle of the room. No reason no words just gestures to get to me to go sit. Silence. More silence. Fascinating. Soooooo interesting. I could not stop smiling. The entire class was just sitting there. Staring at me. Bliss. The committee had a big meeting in my head. So much to think about and all the space in the universe to imagine, play, plot, plan, dream, which I do both asleep and awake.
Then the Prof said - and I have no idea of how much time had passed - as I do not get time - in a hushed tone - " Ok - let me know when you know what you are doing."
I brought my attention as best I could to focus on the faces of my classmates. Woa. Nasty. Now mind you this was Trent in the 90's. Purple might have been the official colour of things feminist and lesboinc but I was not expecting so many faces to be bubbling purple. There was one gal who looked positively Elizabtheanly Talyorish.
Two hours. Two hours had passed. Two hours had passed since he asked the weird question. This I noted by the clock tower. Which I think many people in the room were about to go. I was so taken aback. How had I missed all this frustration and anger?
" What?" I asked - shattering the silence like flatulence at a funeral.
" Well Kelly - do you know what you are doing?" "Nope." - pretty sure I had no chance of explaining myself. Pretty sure I had just sucked two hours of peoples life away. Pretty sure I should just drop the class and run. I scanned for my shoes then said - very quietly through burning salty tears of shame -
"I am just sitting here. Being myself." My Prof walked up to my hanging head and lifted my chin. He looked me right in the eye - right thru to the back of my swirling head.
"Exactly." He said still in that hushed tone. "You were the only one not waiting."
- So please, don't wait. Don't wait to live, Don't wait to die. Don't wait for an absolution that will never come. (Titanic) find your moment and be in it.
Oh look a chicken.
9/2/2014 05:25:28 am
I absolutely loved this post. Beautifully told as always by the master story teller.
10/7/2016 04:03:39 pm
Wow....that was spot on. Thank you.
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