Pace is something that differs from one individual to another, whereby its subjective nature makes one man's "swiftness" another man's "slowness", or vice versa. It has dawned upon me: where does one apply the right amount of 'pace' in varied situations- from the choice of majors in a course, to realising an old dream, to working towards a big project, to taking a jog in the evening?Like an eagle that patiently awaits the right time to sweep down from its flight to capture its prey, like the athlete that anticipates the gunshot before the race, like the drummer before a roll in a song- there will always be a considerable measure of anticipation before something big happens, or the right moment comes.
Many would rather have something quicker than slower. It is no secret that I, too, find it difficult to wait at times, evident in many things, from the way in which I drive (much to the chagrin of the passengers) to the simpler things, like how I play Counterstrike ;>
Yet, we often forget this element of waiting and despise it's irony; that it can be so painfully slow, excruciatingly mundane, seemingly pointless, but more often than not crucial for the end to be realized. And while at times we can afford to ignore the wait and seize the opportunity before it goes, there are times when we must endure, allow for a slower rate in pace, listen to the rational thought rather than the compelling feeling, and walk slowly even if your heart is racing.
There was once a man who, upon meeting his wife-to-be and winning her heart decided to ask her to marry him. At the park where he was to produce the ring with which he would slip unto her finger, he noticed many policemen chasing a robber, who was running in his direction. Out of sheer misfortune, the man was mistaken by the confused policemen as the robber and he was taken into custody. As a result, the innocent man was put behind bars for years, never having the chance to propose to the woman he loved. For a while, he was bitter, for he was wrongly accused and it would take years before he could make her his wife, if she didn't marry someone else in the first place. But when his jail term ended, so did his waiting and he finally made her his bride, realising that the few years spent waiting were not as bad as he thought them to be, for he had been waiting for the love of his life
... all his life, anyway.
It is in this perspective that one is able to have the faith and be more than willing to anticipate a vague future which may or may not take place, because despite circumstances, the hope of the ending compels him... to wait.
So, please wait
