No, not really; he's not coming. I'm not waiting for him at all. But I am waiting; sometimes it is time to stop doing things and just wait for awhile. It used to make me crazy when the waiting times came; I was afraid that all my creativity had dried up and blown away. I was certain that I'd never make another thing, never write another word. Fear is a fearful thing, indeed.
But now I see these times of deep breathing as a respite; a time to let my mind go silent, my fingers rest, and the seeds of new ideas germinate. Without this time, they cannot push their way out of the darkness; without this time, they will never see the light of day. They will grow, flower, and fruit in good time. And I don't have to do a thing to help them; all I have to do is watch and wait.
And when they're ready, I'll be ready, too.
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