THE WAITING ROOM
Waiting isn’t a holding pattern. It’s not sitting on a plastic chair in a lobby, checking your watch and huffing at the ceiling. Most of us treat delay like a prison sentence. We endure it. We grit our teeth and hope it ends soon so “real life” can start again.
That’s a waste of a good morning.
PICK UP THE TRAY
If you’re stuck in a season of “not yet,” look at the word. A waiter doesn’t just stand in the corner of a diner staring at the clock. They move. They fill water glasses. They check on the table in the back. They carry the weight.
When the answer is slow in coming, your job isn’t to tap your toes. Your job is to serve.
Check on your neighbor. Make sure Christy has what she needs before she even asks for it. Scratch Zippy behind the ears. Do the work that’s right in front of your face instead of squinting at a horizon you can’t reach yet.
THE FLAVOR OF PATIENCE
There is a specific grit that comes from serving while you’re hungry yourself. It’s like slow-cooking a tough cut of meat. You can’t rush the breakdown of the fibers. You just keep the heat steady and stay present.
The “wait” is where the character is seasoned. If you aren’t useful while you’re waiting, you won’t know what to do when the door finally opens.
Keep your apron on. Keep your head down. Keep serving.