“Waiting is a period of learning. The longer we wait, the more we hear about [the one] for whom we are waiting.” —Henri Nouwen
What have you learned while waiting?
One thought on “A Period of Learning”
If I am waiting for a person to come rather than an event to start, I have different responses. If a person, I know that their sense of timing probably is different than mine; I at first think of the ways that can cause a delay for almost anyone; soon, however, I begin to worry that a disaster has struck and what a relief when that person comes rushing up! If this doesn’t happen, I do my best to make other contact to discover the reason(s). I, a latecomer myself, am loath to lay blame on another in this instance. Also one must realize that the concept of time can be different in certain cultures other than my own. In Peru, I was invited to a birthday party at a neighboring home in the barriada where I lived. Knowing of the “hora Peruana= always an hour late), I arrived at the door on Peruvian time, only to find that they were still preparing the room by vacuuming it and there was no one else there. I was ushered in politely, seated and simply waited for the party to begin another hour later. In addition, I had no phone or way to communicate so I could never communicate with others if, for chance, I was going to be late myself. This shift in time concept was always graciously accepted in that culture, actually of necessity.
If I am waiting for a person to come rather than an event to start, I have different responses. If a person, I know that their sense of timing probably is different than mine; I at first think of the ways that can cause a delay for almost anyone; soon, however, I begin to worry that a disaster has struck and what a relief when that person comes rushing up! If this doesn’t happen, I do my best to make other contact to discover the reason(s). I, a latecomer myself, am loath to lay blame on another in this instance. Also one must realize that the concept of time can be different in certain cultures other than my own. In Peru, I was invited to a birthday party at a neighboring home in the barriada where I lived. Knowing of the “hora Peruana= always an hour late), I arrived at the door on Peruvian time, only to find that they were still preparing the room by vacuuming it and there was no one else there. I was ushered in politely, seated and simply waited for the party to begin another hour later. In addition, I had no phone or way to communicate so I could never communicate with others if, for chance, I was going to be late myself. This shift in time concept was always graciously accepted in that culture, actually of necessity.