Where did the time go? Everyone asks this question as we contemplate the expiring year and the emerging new one. Especially as we get older, we shake our heads in disbelief that another year has passed. But today I want to talk about the opposite feeling- the feeling that time is standing still. That feeling when the hours, days and weeks seem to drag by. Have you ever had periods in your life when you felt just like that?
A week or two before Christmas I found myself standing in a long line at the post office in order to mail a package. When I took my place at the back of the line I was just barely inside the door. Ahead of me stood the many disgruntled postal patrons whose body language telegraphed their irritation and frustration about the interminably long wait. But were they correct in their assumptions?
I too used to enter the post office, see the long line, and feel my mood sink in a kind of despair over the anticipated wait. In that moment I would experience a sudden suspension of time. But one day I decided to “test” that reality and time my actual wait. This I did on numerous occasions, and always I was surprised by how short the wait was. I found that there was a big gap between my perceived wait time and my actual wait time. I had to confess that my perception was actually based not in reality but in a preconceived idea about postal lines. In spite of all the people in line with all their packages and envelopes, the line moved surprisingly quickly.
This little anecdote has a parallel to another perceived passage of time that I’m experiencing right now. As I prepare and plan to make my move to teach overseas, the waiting seems interminably slow. Will it ever happen I wonder? Time seems to be standing still or at best inching forward toward a day of departure that can be marked on a calendar. Again and again a sense of anxious impatience rises within me that needs a reality check.
Although I can’t calculate my wait time in minutes as at the post office, I need to put this waiting period in proper perspective so as to minimize my discouragement. The best way to do that I’ve found is two-fold. First of all I look back at all that I’ve accomplished since making the determination to move. By volunteer teaching I have gained 11 months of classroom teaching experience and have created numerous lesson plans that I can use in a future classroom. I also completed my TEFL certification and created a new targeted resume. I started studying Czech with materials sent to me by my cousin in Prague and she and I Skype every two weeks. 
The second thing I do is look ahead and make a list of all the things that will have to be put in place in order to go. It is a very long list: research potential employers, make preliminary contact with those employers, sell my house, put furniture in storage, buy a new laptop, arrange for banking, phone service etc. etc. etc. Contemplating this list is sobering and makes the waiting time seem very short indeed.
Please don’t imagine that I’ve only had to process through this cycle only once. I do it on a regular basis and each time that I regain clarity on my perspective I realize that things will unfold as they are meant to unfold. I cannot speed up or slow down time. I can only put one foot in front of the other, tackle the task at hand and believe that eventually I’ll be at the front of the line.
Dear Readers: Are you in a place of impatience for something to begin (or end) in your life? Was there a period of time in your life when waiting made the time stand still? How did you get through it? Please share in the comments.
Have you ever asked yourself the question, “What’s wrong with me?” I have. Usually I ask it while reflecting on something really dumb or unkind that I’ve thought, done or said. But there are also times when I ponder this question when comparing myself to other people. In particular, their career path compared to mine. How my jobs seem to have randomly wandered from field to field while other peoples’ seem to have been targeted toward a known end and stayed the course. 
Just as in the past, when I got my resume all organized and looked it over, I saw this meandering, very nonlinear work history that made me pause and say “What’s wrong with me?”
But I’ve learned, (and truthfully, I’m still learning,) to embrace this uniqueness about myself. To see it as an asset and not a liability. To not ask, “what’s wrong with me?” but instead, “what’s right?” I have always been driven to explore, inquire, and learn in many fields, which has led me to multiple proficiencies. This is who I am, a Renaissance Woman. 
The Bohemian Freethinker 