Waiting is the hardest part
This past week, students around the US received their college admissions letters, dictating where they will spend the next four years of their lives. Many of the Ivy League schools received a record number of applicants and had some of the lowest acceptance rates in recent years. I remember the anxiety I felt waiting for my own college acceptance letter. Towards the end of that school day, I was filled with dread and so much fear. I remember sitting in my last class of the day, which was orchestra. My stand partner must've seen how rigid and out of it I was, because I remember being annoyed at her when she asked me if I was okay. I hadn't really told anyone where I had applied during the early action/decision round even though many people in my school shared where they had applied. I even remember one girl telling me it was sneaky that I didn't share where I applied until after I got in. I wasn't even really friends with this girl, so why did she think she was entitled to know about my deepest dreams? Just because other people felt comfortable sharing theirs before it did or didn't come true, that wasn't the case for me. I hold my deepest desires close to my chest because they're mine alone and I don't want to speak too soon.
I mention college admissions season because I am also currently waiting back on some news that could be a major game changer and redefine what the upcoming months look like. I am sitting in both the anxiety of the unknown and hope for this opportunity that could come through. It's hard to admit how badly I want things to work out. Over the past year, there have been very few things I've been actively pursuing, but this is something that I really want. It's scary to name this feeling of desire, to feel at the mercy of a decision outside of my control.
I wanted to write this post while I am still in the thick of the unknown, stewing in the uncertainty of it all. On one hand, I want for things to work out so badly and I can almost taste victory in my mouth. On the other hand, I am trying not to get my hopes up because I know that disappointment will be that much more crushing. Is this the practice of living...of doing our best as we wait?
If this opportunity does not pan out, then I have to face reality and start taking my backup plan seriously, which requires a different kind of action. I think about the times that I didn't get what I wanted and the silver linings of those things. I was okay and I know that this time, I'll be okay, too. But, it doesn't make this moment of not knowing any easier.
Eckhart Tolle has an insightful quote that goes like this: "Stress is a sign that you've lost the present moment. The next moment has become more important than life itself." I've found myself unable to do much in the last few days. It feels foolish to half-heartedly pursue the backup options when I don't yet know if going down that path is even necessary. But, it also feels foolish to wait around until I actually know. It's like working on college applications for your safety schools even though you really don't want to go there and there's still a chance you'll get into your dream school early action. It dawned on me that the stress I've been feeling is the loss of the present moment, overtaken about worries about the future. This quote reminded me that we only have right now. There's no use in fretting over something that may or may not happen, especially since it's completely out of my hands at this point.
Waiting is hard, because we are sitting in the space between what is and what could be. Liz Tran of Reset shared in her latest newsletter about the current eclipse season taking place through May 5: "Eclipse seasons are a time of big changes, breakthroughs, and insights, and they provide the necessary shakeup to see your life with a fresh perspective. These changes aren't proactive thought--there's no need for you to 'make them happen.' They come about on their own, and very likely, they will surprise you. So the next few weeks, the astrological invitation is to become as changeable as water."
The thought of experiencing effortless change, one that takes place through us and with us, rather than because of us or any actions we take made my heart skip a beat. What does it feel like to be so deeply in sync with the universe that we just sit, breathe, observe, and exist? What does it mean to wait without wishing the process to be any different? How do we continue on in the face of discomfort, knowing that this, too, shall pass?
So, here I am, waiting, doing what I can in these moments of challenge. Sleeping, meditating, making a meal, dragging myself to the gym, sipping a cup of coffee, watching the waves crash and retreat, listening to the ocean.
