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Waiting...



I'm waiting for the right time.

I'm waiting for the money.

I'm waiting to feel better.

I'm waiting until my kids are older.

I'm waiting until Covid is no longer a threat.

I'm waiting until my computer is fixed.

I'm waiting to be ready.

I'm waiting.


I think about all the times that I am waiting. From 3:15-3:45, I wait to pick up my kids in the carpool line. Thank you, Hulu, I can catch up on some shows while I wait. I wait for my daughter to see her teacher of her afterschool program before she leaps out of the car. I wait for my daughter to come home and cherish some one-on-one moments with my son in the meantime. But, nonetheless, I wait.


I wait for my children to rise out of bed. I wait for their little bodies to give me my morning hug from each of them. I wait for the inevitable fighting and cross my fingers it resolves itself without my interference.


I wait for my daughter to be prompted to get her shoes and socks on. I wait for my daughter to be told to get her mask. I wait for my daughter to run back inside because she forgot her mask that was literally on her hand five minutes ago. I wait.


I wait to work on independently publishing any more books because it is expensive to do it well. I wait for the money. I wait and I wait and I wait.


I wait for the right time. I wait for the right time to get healthy. I wait for the right time to move on from jobs. I wait for the right time to write. I wait for the right time to do nearly anything. However, do I really need to wait?


Even though I wait for the right time to get healthier, I need to realize I am getting healthier. It's a slow, snail-paced process. But I want to focus on my whole body this time and I want these changes to be permanent. When I look back, I can do a whole lot more now than I could a year ago. I have become consistent at logging my meals. My knee pain is still there, but not nearly what it was a year ago. My optic nerve, although still swollen, is reducing at least at a microscopic level. These changes haven't been easy to make and they haven't been because I'm waiting. They're because I'm doing things to make it happen.


In 2019, I knew it was the right time to move on from a job. I was physically ill. I was an emotional wreck and I typed out the intricate details the best I could to provide the best service to the students I felt like I was leaving behind. And I didn't wait. But, I am waiting to move on from my very part-time job. I've taught swim lessons for more than half of my life now. But the day is coming when I won't teach another one. And I keep waiting for the right time to know when that time will be. At some point I need to quit waiting and just say this is my last lesson—but, right now I am still waiting to say goodbye to this part of my life.


For some reason, I have decided that this time or that time is not the right time to write. I taught a two-week class this summer for some upper elementary students called Write, Right Now. There's no perfect time to write. I need to stop waiting. I need to start doing—and not just for the class that I'm taking, but for me. I need to embrace writing, right now.


Waiting. It seems like I do it a lot. But I need to stop waiting and start doing.


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