Standing at the bottom of the stairs. Waiting for the climb to begin.
I had just finished a full day of touring in London, England, well in excess of 30,000 steps, and the thought of climbing yet another long staircase seemed overwhelming. And so I waited. I waited to start the climb.
I knew it would be worth it at the end of the climb. At the top of those stairs I would only be a few hundred paces from our room at the incredible Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park. There I could take my shoes off and recover from all of that walking.
Just get started. Climb that last set of stairs and get it over with. Although, jumping on the escalator would be so much easier.
What was I waiting for?
Did I want to take the easy way up those stairs?
We’re still waiting. Waiting to really, seriously, finally, and with great commitment take off in our motorhome and see the country. Waiting is painful. My DW has told me that I’m wishing my life away and should live in the moment. But that’s easier said than done. I’ve finally decided to retire in August 2016, and my wife will do the same the following April. That means we’re within 12 months of “taking off”. But after a dozen years of researching RVs, renting them for vacations, and buying our own dream home on wheels late last year, I’m chomping at the bit to hit the road.
I know exactly what he is going through. Right now I am waiting, waiting for our house to sell, waiting for my retirement date to arrive, waiting for our new life to start. And there is really no quick and easy escalator to take. It is a long climb and the end seems so far away.
If I look it this from the positive side of things though, I have learned something really important about myself.
I hate waiting.