A fellow traveler once pointed out that in Spanish "esperar" means not only to wait, but to wish, and to hope.
In English, "waiting" is a heavier, darker idea. It may mean boredom, lethargy, or an extra twenty pounds. But, what it really means across language barriers is submission to the terrible torrents of time.
I am waiting right now. I am waiting to go to graduate school. I am waiting tables. I am waiting to start a family. I am waiting to build a career. But I don't want to wait anymore. It's stale. It's old. It's a tired taste in my mouth. But if I were to fast forward, I would miss the splatters of color across the autumn sunset. I would miss thousands of smiles. I would miss my youth. So, I'll accept this suspended feeling, this immobility and use my time, while I have it, to create, to learn, to live, and to love--day after day.
