…my own shall come to me.



What would I do with another hour?


I’d probably wait it out…


You may think that is a waste of precious time, that such a gift of an extra hour should be used more productively.

Perhaps you are right…


A large portion of my life has been about waiting.

Different kinds of waiting.

I have experienced so many myriad forms of waiting since I was a child (even the preamble to my birth and the birth itself was all about waiting) that I could almost call myself a connoisseur of wait, an expert, but I dare not do such a thing as doing so (out loud) may cause someone witnessing the act to get rather flustered, impatient with me, hot around the collar, their neck reddened with indignation and swollen by all the words trapped within which are building in pressure, ready to spew like a volcanic eruption.


I’m not a patient person, in spite of all my practice at waiting.

Some people would argue with me about that assessment of myself. Looks can be deceiving, so can assessments of self and other. Some people have remarked upon how patient I am, considering their remark to be a compliment of a flaw. I’m uncertain if it is a compliment, and my flaw would be impatience rather than patience.


I have little patience and a lot of impatience when it comes to those who spew their volcanic vent in my direction. However I will wait them out, wait their temper out, wait for it to subside, for them to run out of steam until there are only tiny puffs of smoke puttering out of their mouths.


Waiting, that’s what I do… best.

Even though it is not something which I feel that I was born to do. It is not an innate ability, it was acquired out of necessity… the necessity of waiting and what to do with such a thing.

Even though it is not considered productive, and is often viewed as a waste of time. By myself. By others.


When I am faced with a particularly frustrating wait, when impatience nibbles at my ear whispering words of haste which, I know from experience, the experience accrued by making hasty mistakes, are unwise… I remind myself of a poem I once read which I have never forgotten.



Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more ‘gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

– Waiting by John Burroughs





6 thoughts on “…my own shall come to me.

    1. Thank you very much 🙂

      I was often told that waiting would teach me patience… so I waited for it to do so and… found that it taught me more about impatience than it did about patience 😉

      Have a lovely week too!


  1. I tried unsuccessfully to read Eckhart Tolle’s book “Power of Now” several years ago as I could not wrap my head around his ideas. Recently I was receptive to his shared thoughts on living in the NOW. An excerpt to share:

    “When you catch yourself slipping into waiting… snap out of it. Come into the present moment. Just be, and enjoy being. If you are present there is never any need for you to wait for anything. So next time somebody says, ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting.’ you can reply, ‘That’s all right, I wasn’t waiting. I was just standing here enjoying myself – in joy in myself.’” Eckhart Tolle

    Every day I am offered opportunities to be in joy in myself 🙂


    1. What if the waiting is the present moment, is it not the place to be and enjoy? What if slipping into waiting is exactly what you need to do there and then, in that now, and snapping out of it robs you of a moment which was of value?

      A statement such as ‘When you catch yourself slipping into waiting… snap out of it.’ tends to stimulate my argumentative side because it is an assumption of you and your life, your experience, based on someone else’s experience of themselves and their life, and their perspective on their own life which they are now imposing on you. They want you to do as they do, be as they are, as that supports their philosophy and justifies what they are doing.

      Maybe the reason that you couldn’t wrap your head around his ideas is because those ideas were not ones which your head needed to embrace in that now. That was you living the power of now – as in now is not the time for the ‘Power of Now’. It’s intriguing to note the timing of when the ‘Power of Now’ was published, what happened before and what happened afterwards. It coincides with a change of pace of life in society, of increased consumerism, working hours, stress, less time where waiting became a crime, everyone wanting everything now, now, now, with very little thought of the results of too much nowness. All power, whatever the form, can be abused.

      His teachings are interesting, as is the path he took to become who he became, and how his teachings came to be, then became popular. Even more interesting is the teachings which inspired his teachings, what he took from them and what he chose to leave out.

      I’m guessing that his ‘Power of Now’ may have been partly inspired by stories such as this one:

      “One day while walking through the wilderness a man stumbled upon a vicious tiger. He ran but soon came to the edge of a high cliff. Desperate to save himself, he climbed down a vine and dangled over the fatal precipice.

      As he hung there, two mice appeared from a hole in the cliff and began gnawing on the vine.

      Suddenly, he noticed on the vine a plump wild strawberry. He plucked it and popped it in his mouth. It was incredibly delicious!”

      There’s a great WP blog which features many Zen stories, often with a modern take, you might enjoy checking it out – http://zendictive.wordpress.com/

      Thank you for sharing 🙂


  2. “I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing;
    wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing;
    there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting.
    Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
    So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.”
    The Four Quartets, East Coker, TS Eliot.

    I am not very talented at waiting or patience either. Waiting is a difficult matter to handle when it can be translated into expectation of what is about to be so I have wasted plenty of time like this, just killing it as I was all in the projection of what had to happen and change it all.
    Anxiety can be paralysing and if you sum up all the hours which have been devoted to nothing…Sometimes is good though to sit and wait, Taoist style, just in a comtemplative mood, just to listen to our thoughts and understand them. i se so many people who experiment horror vacui, they have to fill their time with actions, sports, just to pretend they are being busy. Your quote”my own shall come to me” is actually very optimistic; I shall confess i have lost this attitude, maybe due to my family life.
    Thank you for this subtle and delicate meditation on the fragility of time and the beautiful picture, it’s as though I could touch its milky substance through its bluish hues as a Venetian glass. xxx


    1. That’s lovely 🙂

      I especially like the part about waiting without hope. There is a certain version of hope which causes much pain, the kind which is passed on the world. I also agree with waiting without thought, in some ways part of the waiting is in waiting for the thought to come to you.

      There are so many different kinds of waiting, each is part of its context. Some are painful, others are soothing and healing. We have a degree of choice and control over the quality of the wait, but not always, sometimes the experience is about ceding control and letting the choice be made by the moment.

      I’m neither an optimist nor a pessimist. I season things with both salt and pepper. I tend to approach a wait with the thought that it could be worth it or a complete waste of time, and on the other side of it things could be brilliant or awful. Usually I figure things will be a bit of both, somewhere in between, and much of how it affects me will be my responsibility. I’ll imagine the worst and the best outcome, and then wait and see what happens with curiosity. If it’s a worst, then I’ll make the best that I can of it, and if it’s the best, then I try not to make the worst of it 😉 I’m a bit of a fatalist who releases that my fatalism is probably just a coping mechanism.

      Thank you for the compliment about the photo. It was a tiny snail moving at a lickety-split pace on the window. It reminded me of an anecdote I read in a book (can’t recall the book, it may have been a Castaneda) about this man who was waiting to meet someone and while he waited he saw a snail crossing the road. He started to worry about the snail getting run over as it was moving so slowly, so he picked it up and placed it on the other side of the road, and felt very pleased with himself for being a Good Samaritan to nature. When his friend arrived, he told him the story of the snail, and his friend remarked that he had interfered with the snail’s journey, making assumptions about it based on his own personal needs, wants and story, without a thought for the snail and its journey, and whether it actually wanted his help.

      I can’t recall the denouement, but I think the guy then tried to pick up the snail and put it back where he had found him before he interfered, but the friend stopped him, as what was done was done. Something like that.


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