Hurry up and wait
A weekend trip for a birthday party starts with so much hurry up and wait. Life does not ask us to hurry, it asks us to wait and watch and wonder.
The thing with air travel is it’s so much hurry up and wait. Check in notifications arrive 24 hours before and urge us to grab our boarding passes before we leave the house. Hurry, do it now! Hurry, make sure you get to the airport 60, 90 minutes, no make that 2 hours, before your flight, you are warned.
Hurry, order the Uber and then wait as the driver realises how far he has to travel and needs to fill up with petrol. Hurry through traffic ducking jams and snarls to get deposited at our terminal, just hope it’s the right one.
Hurry to find the right airline and gasp at the snaking queue. Hurry to join the queue and wait as it inches forward wondering why we had to get the boarding pass when we had to wait anyway.
“Who packed this bag?” asked the check in attendant looking at the queue and not you. “Are any of these in your bag?”
We wait, heart pounding, as he points to three mountains of forbidden items on a laminated card in front of us.
“No?” We squeak. “Definitely not.”
The solitary bag is dumped on the belt next to the check in counter as we wait, on edge, for the scale to indicate we are free to go or, heaven forbid, we need to open and expose our luggage innards for all to see as we scramble to rearrange and pull out the heavy items that have pushed us over the limit.
A big sigh as we are handed our newly printed boarding pass that we didn’t need but we’ll take if it makes the rest of the journey smoother. It doesn’t really but holding a boarding pass security blanket makes it feel that way as we hurry to stand in another queue to get through security.
More waiting
More waiting. Then hurriedly unpacking to hand over laptops, phones, jackets, belts, even shoes before stepping through the metal detector hoping that the silver bangles don’t set it off only to be patted down anyway. Must have a suspicious looking face.
It’s an internal flight so no passport control but finding our way to the correct gate is a mission enough, only to have it change three times while we wait an extra hour to board.
We have a mediocre and very expensive coffee, and wait. We buy a bottle of super precious water and wait. And wait. And wait.
We wait on the bus with all the pay-extra priority members. In the aeroplane we wait in our seats with our backpacks crushing our feet because the overhead cabinets are stuffed to overflowing with small suitcases that should be in the hold.
When we land there’s a rush to rescue onboard luggage from being crushed underfoot and squashed overhead. Of course, another wait to disembark.
There’s the irrational rush to find the correct conveyor belt only to wait some more to collect bags while somebody else’s luggage goes round and round and round.
You know the drill
Anyone that has travelled by air knows the drill. You willingly put yourself through all that discomfort (cattle class squash anyone?) to visit new and favourite places and see loved ones living far away.
That’s what we did, ditching the journey of an extended road trip for the drop in destination of George for an extended weekend to celebrate Matthew’s newest niece Ava’s first birthday. Not that Ava will remember or even care but we do.
The last time we were in this part of the world it was to remember the life lived of David, Matthew and Emmett’s dad, this time it was to celebrate a new one only 12 months in the making.
There’s no hurry up for Ava. Her developmental milestones will be reached when she is ready. She sleeps when she’s tired, eats when she is hungry and plays in between. She doesn’t mind that she doesn’t have her two bottom teeth yet, or that she prefers bananas to apples.
None of the littlies at the party worried about whether they were sleeping through or if they preferred standing to crawling and who among them was walking. The new parents did the worrying as they hovered on the high energy in the room buzzing with squeals in delight and discovery.
Always with one eye on their toddler the parents tried to complete a full sentence in a stuttering conversation with a fellow big person. Regular lunging interrupted any talk to save a tiny person from something that they probably didn’t need saving from at all.
The big people compared notes with big smiles that hid the pride of a parent whose baby was ahead of the curve or the curling concern of a lagging leap.
They grow up so quickly
Every mummy or daddy at the party had that glazed eye look of exhaustion, and cheeks puffed with solid determination of “we’ll get through this – eventually”, hoping for it to hurry up. The new parent seesaws between wishing that the next milestone would arrive and the desire that their baby blessing stay exactly where they are.
Said one mum to another as they shook their heads and watched and held and carried and wiped, “They grow up so quickly,”
Oh that they do.
And as they grow life starts to hurry them to do more and be more. Hurry up and learn – quickly. Quickly, now. The world is a competitive place, you have to stay ahead to get ahead. Learn more, play less. Learn the colours, learn to count, learn to write, learn to read. Learn, learn, learn. Quick, quick, quick. Learn more, play less. Play a little, but play less. Until there is no more time to play. The world is a competitive place…
All of a sudden these playful charges arrive where we don’t want them to: too busy, too anxious, too stressed. Oh no they’ve become exactly like their parents. All hurry – no wait. For what?
Wherever you go, there you are
As we sat facing the magnificent Outeniqua Mountains and watched the mist circle a crown on this peak and then that, we were asked, “When are you moving down?”
“We’re not,” we answered to surprised faces.
We listened as many described how they had moved down for a more peaceful life. A safer life. A less harassed existence. And yet there they were, some as hurried and as stressed as they were when they lived in the north. They hardly looked at the mountain as they spoke of being too busy.
“But it is beautiful here,” said one, “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
When we move we can carry the burdens of the way we are with us. The environment may change but can we? All grown up with places to hurry to and people to see, hurriedly.
Wouldn’t it be better to play more?
Thinking back to the littlies we wondered, wouldn’t it be better to play more? Stay and play. Stop and play. Wait for the next moment, pause, and play?
Wouldn’t it be better to not hurry up? Wouldn’t it be better to welcome the wait? To just wait for nothing in particular, take time to look at the mountain and let go of the weight of what it is to be grown up? With so much life to get through it may feel like we need to hurry it on. But in a flash it could be over, with all that wonder gone.
Wherever you are, stay awhile and wait without the hurry.
Until next time.
Yours in feeling,
Chantal & Matthew
Credits for this issue — Images: Midjourney & 5th Place
Written by
Chantal Dawtrey
Supporting women, especially in midlife and beyond, to navigate life transitions · Emotional fitness coach
Chantal supports women, especially in midlife and beyond, to navigate life transitions. She designs and delivers data informed digital programmes that build organisational emotional fitness. She helps people move beyond habitual patterns into greater awareness, agency, and well being.
With over 15 years of coaching experience and more than two decades in facilitation and human development, Chantal partners with individuals, teams, and organizations to build emotional resilience, enhance self-awareness, and develop sustainable well-being strategies.
Her primary focus as a coach is supporting women, especially those in their 50’s and beyond, to navigate profound life transitions with clarity, steadiness and self-reconnection. Finding answers to questions about identity, purpose, belonging and desire to an emergence, a reclamation and a return to self.
If you're going through a transition and would like support, let's talk.
Matthew Green
Reducing the Certainty Deficit in high-performing people and teams · Emotional fitness coach
Matthew works with athletes, performance teams, and anyone who wants to reduce the Certainty Deficit in their situation or context.
The Certainty Deficit is the space between what you can do and what your body will let you do when it counts. It is context-specific and situational. A person or athlete can have zero deficit in one situation and a significant one in another.
The body holds beliefs that keep the Certainty Deficit in place. These beliefs run deeper than self-talk and faster than any conscious strategy. When they shift, the ceiling shifts, and new possibilities arise.
Matthew is also an emotional fitness coach who supports individuals to live and lead from a place of inner clarity and stability. The work is somatic-first, practical, and grounded.
If you're seeing a pattern that current approaches haven't shifted, let's talk.
My origin story: Why elite athletes underperform when it counts
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