The Weight of Waiting

The clock does not move. Only the hands move.

We stand in the center of the rush. A river of bodies flows around us, hurried, frantic, chasing the next destination. We are the stone in the stream. We are the pause. To wait is to surrender the illusion of control. It is to accept that the world will continue its frantic pace without our permission.

There is a quiet power in this. To be still while others run. To look toward the horizon and see only the space between here and there. We think we are losing time. In truth, we are finally finding it.

What remains when the hurry falls away?

Ernest Kustiadihardjo has captured this stillness in his image titled Delayed. It is a quiet meditation on the space we inhabit when the world asks us to pause. Do you find peace in the waiting, or only the ache of the clock?