worth the wait

advent begins tomorrow.  and with it, i'm trying an exercise in waiting well.  the last entry poem would not have been written had it not been for this practice.  it's nice when solitary moments of bliss open up the poet's imagination, birds sing, and winds blow gently through the trees. 

in this case, it was crowded, anything but bliss, and my senses were bombarded by smells of bad coffee, rubber, and old popcorn not to mention a cacophony of auditory clutter.  and the wait was long.  i started to whip out my phone to pass the time while my tires were being rotated and then i remembered i could try and be present. 

thankfully there was a window where i could watch the clouds and so i whipped out a small notebook and began sketching and scribbling down in words what i was seeing.

(i've always loved watching clouds and even studied the different types on my own as a child.  though they can be categorized, no two ever exist in exactly the same formation again--rather like people, i can't help noting.)

far from the ideal writing environment, phones rang, the man next to me waiting for his SUV cleared his throat loudly and compulsively, a country music station and ads blared above the sound of power tools...so it truly was an exercise for me to focus on the clouds and my internal dialogue instead.

(at the top of my bookpile right now is "the art of the wasted day" by patricia hampl and i love that she too played with words and cloud-watched as a child.  will someone please take "daydreaming" off the list of cardinal sins!?) 

it's good for us to wait, be bored so as to think up something to do or make, have open-ended time or even days.  the moments and clouds right in front of us will never be the same again.