i read samuel beckett’s waiting for godot as a freshman in college, and could not appreciate what my prof was going on and on about. yea, absurdist, yea, don’t get it, yea, not my thing.
but in the days following the break-up,
i waited for christmas, wondering whether he’d text, wondering if he’d mind if i texted.
i waited for his birthday, for an excuse to wish him.
i waited for valentine’s day, wondering whether two and a half months of ‘no-contact’ was sufficient for him to miss me, for us to talk about us. he didn’t want to.
after he told me he much preferred to be left alone, i waited for nothing in particular.
i spent each day distracting myself with work, with copious amounts of chips, with elementary and da vinci’s demons marathons, waiting for the pain to go away.
oh, i waited for my birthday, in the hope of hearing from him.
it was only when my body and soul inhabited that space of waiting that i understood exactly why the play is labelled a tragicomedy. i was then immensely grateful for the play’s existence, for feeling that little bit less alone for a shared experience.
my prof always frowned upon critical readings of this play that interpreted godot as god, but hey, this blog has no literary ambitions worth speaking of. given that the weekend just past was the first sunday of advent, perhaps the play could take on a new personal understanding.
waiting on god now – the original french title en attendant godot carries more positive associations to do with waiting: attending to, being expectant of, being purposeful. in this case, then, vladimir and estragon are negative examples, though uncannily realistic in their portrayal of how they paused their lives waiting in vain for godot. i am guilty of the same when i live as if life doesn’t begin until one is in a romantic relationship.
but what would waiting on god entail? certainly not standing by feebly while others suffer, not tolerating pozzo bearing down on lucky while waiting passively for godot, but an active waiting through worship and in charity.
i stole that off pinterest and used it as a guiding motto after the break up. i think it applies more than ever now, when i can manage to be less self-absorbed in my pain.
come, thou long-expected Jesus
let us find our rest in Thee.