What Are We All Waiting For, Anyway?

I once spent 3 days as part of a Buddhist Temple Stay program in Korea, in the Wol-Jeong Sa temple, in the eastern mountains of Korea. This region is famed for its amazing potatoes, my mother told me.

It was in the middle of a particularly cold winter. On the first day, the monks teach the guests basic temple manners. This is how you greet one another. There would be a chant and bell to sound the 4:30 AM hour. We should not throw any away food in order to honor the labor of those who grew, harvested and prepared the food. We had a sitting group the first evening, where a monk facilitated conversation about whatever was on our minds.

The private sleeping quarters were small, heated traditionally through the floor, and closed with a sliding inner door. Then there was a kind of “foyer,” not freezing but cold enough to see your breath, where you left your shoes, and a sliding outer door. The next morning, after a glorious sleep on the warm cotton floor mattress, and a breakfast including the most delicious potatoes I’ve ever tasted, I found myself expectantly waiting. Where were we supposed to go, and who was going to give guidance about suggested activities?

Then the obvious.. It was up to each individual to exist in their way. I could read, go for a hike up the mountain or not, wander the grounds, sit in the temple, sleep, meditate, or even connect to WiFi with my phone, but no one was going to offer suggestions.

As there was nothing to wait for, I stopped waiting.

Wol-Jeong Sa has a walking path along the river and through a forest of thousands of tall fir trees, about 2 km round trip. That day I walked the path three times because why not. Another walker passed by and we shared a thermos of instant coffee. There was very little thinking.  The partly frozen river, the wind, bird sounds and even my footsteps changed, and I neither wondered what was next nor tried to remember. The concept of waiting for something evaporated. You could say it was an experience of being present that was magically outside of time.

So much of my life has been about waiting for (and hoping and planning for) the future, that effectively I’ve been a hostage to time. However I start answering the question of what I’m waiting for, by continuing on, and then what, and then what.. the same ultimate conclusion appears… for time to run out.  So, part of my current journey working with my own coach is about changing my relationship with time. As we are time-bound creatures, I’m not exactly sure what that’s going to look like, yet, but it’s fun to explore and hear as many perspectives as possible.