Waiting

I may have written about this before but “waiting” is my new cross to bear, my latest bugaboo.

I moved out of my condo in Long Beach three weeks ago, bolstered by the claims of my realtors that “your place will sell quickly.”

Still no offers even though the price has been lowered. Tom T called last night that one of Carlton’s clients was concerned that the electric stove would interfere with his pacemaker.

Poppycock!

Meanwhile, I’m living in exile with boxes of stuff hither and yon. My health insurance coverage is in limbo and the family of my brother Tom is getting on my nerves. I might be getting on theirs as well.

Additionally, the family inheritance is due to be distributed May 2nd. Despite requests to Ken, there has been no explanation of how this distribution will take place. I, for one, would welcome my inheritance to pay off some bills.

So, “waiting” which is something I don’t do well. I’ve always been in a hurry. “Waiting” for Marc Dauphinais to pick me up in high school made me wonder about my self worth. Same was true with Arnold Foster. When I called him on the phone, his voice dropped in disgust. I so wanted his approval.

So, I look out the window and see the breeze riffle the leaves. The sky is mostly blue. The green of the trees, the blue of the sky – I recall Thomas Merton observing that “isn’t it neat that God doesn’t recognize that blue and green don’t go together.”

That’s an observation that’s only made in the “now.” “Waiting” can close my mind to the richness of life now. So, I’ll try to spend more time in opening my mind to the now, and having less time to wait.

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