“C’est pour quand?”
There’s the planned … and then there’s the unplanned, the unexpected, the unforeseen. Which is what does happen, which is what really counts, those events which are the most challenging and perhaps the most exciting.
Hope fills the question: “C’est pour quand?”
Expectation fills the question.
Maybe fear, too. Apprehension. Tension.
The French word “attente” is rich. In English, we have two: waiting and expectation. Probably more. And sometimes we’re doing both.
The future. Whatever it is that we’re waiting for, expecting, hoping for, dreaming of, yearning for … patiently or impatiently … is yet to come, is yet to happen.
The fisherman on the bank of the river hoping for a catch; the princess praying her prince will come and lovers, hearts beating waiting for their next encoounter; the student getting ready for an exam and then wondering what the results will be; the traveller on his way to a known or new destination; the writer, the poet, waiting for his or her muse, the next word …. the musician getting prepared for the next note …. when? when? when?
And then it happens! Daylight breaks. The sun comes up.
And what do we get in return for all the waiting and all the patience?
An opportunity. The challenge to react. The challenge of performing.
And then? The fisherman still has to catch the fish, the princess needs to wake up, the hearts have to open, the student must study, the traveller’s got to adapt and share, the writer’s got to put ink to paper … and the musician’s got to interpret the score with his art.
And then? Then … Then there’s a great, deep feeling of …. well deserved …