I was there at 0955 for my 1005 coach; for a change I was early. I had planned my morning well, and had walked to the coach stop with direction and purpose. I was looking forward to going home after a long week away.
I had been accompanied to the coach stop by some new friends who I had met over the course of the week, and when my coach was due to arrive they carried on their way leaving me with half a dozen other people who I presumed were waiting for the same service. I didn't mind waiting on my own, I knew it wouldn't be a long wait, and in addition it was an unusually lovely day - it was nice to be outside. The sun was out for a change, the sky was blue and the occasional breezes were warm! Like the porridge in Goldilocks and the three bears, the weather was neither too hot, nor too cold, it was just right: a good start to the day!
The scheduled time for the bus to arrive and depart came and went rather swiftly. It was soon 1020 and there was no sign of it. Questions were asked to which no satisfying answers were given. I waited along with the other prospective passengers, I had no choice!
Before long, at about 1030, the sky started to grey and the sun took cover behind the gathering clouds. It wasn't cold but the feel of the day had shifted. The weather was no longer bright and joyful, the wait no longer easy and light. The air was suddenly saturated with concerns and worries in addition to the overhanging reality of being out of control and helpless to the situation as it presented itself. Time passed and still I waited.
At about 1045 a coach arrived. The relief between the gathered group was almost audible! Smiles started to appear, and bodies quickly straightened up. As the coach drew to a halt in front of us, it became clear that it wasn't the one I was waiting for, and I noticed a few others shared my fate. Bodies returned to prior positions, smiles disappeared, frustration surfaced and the small sense of hope that had been conceived was lost. Our number grew smaller as those whose service it was smiled as they boarded, and smiled still as they rode away.
At 1055 the warm breeze became a noticeable cold wind. The sun was nowhere to be seen or felt, and we were still waiting. It was here that I realized that it wasnt just 'I' who was going through this, but 'we'. We were bonded by a common circumstance. Whilst it may have impacted the rest of our days differently, our situations were at that point the same; it had become cold, the heavens were threatening rain and the coach was creeping on being an hour late - we all felt affected by these different elements; and had no control over them at all.
1105 came and went. The coach was nowhere to be seen. At about 1110, a coach turned the corner and headed our way. It wasn't my coach or that of some of my other companions. Our number grew smaller, and at this point only a handful of people remained. We looked at each other, smiled and shook our heads. As yet another coach drew up, hope was long lost, and there was no shift in body language within the group. We stared the coach down until it came to a stop and waited for more bad news. The driver stepped out, looked at his register, looked at the group in front of him and called out the destination. We looked at each other briefly, smiled, picked up our bags and headed home.
This got me thinking a bit while I was on my way home cruising down the motorway. We waited because we knew a coach would come for us, we had no control over when or how, but we knew it would. The weather had changed, and I am sure if any of us had had any say in the matter we would have kept it the way we found it when we first arrived, potentially making the wait a little bit more bearable or friendly, still we waited. The day had been planned, but the plan had changed with respect to time; we made it to our respective destinations albeit late, but we got there.
For me, I waited because I needed to go home, I didn't have any other place I needed to be or indeed wanted to be, so things worked out. In a situation where I was going somewhere just for the fun if of it, it is very plausible that I could throw in the towel and opt out of the journey for all the hassle it was causing. My question is this: how do I or we, know which journeys in life to take, embark on and indeed invest in and which are worth waiting out? Which are worth braving the weather for? even before considering that, how does one figure out which journey will best lead them Home or where they need to be? And following that determination, working out the best mode of getting there.
I have recently graduated, and all the dreams of what I would do in my life seem all so hard if not impossible to figure out. Is it worth me waiting and working them out or should I shift or maybe even change focus completely? I know I am not in control and when it comes to how life plays out, this affects more than the weather - and is not always easy to take. I am at a crossroads of crossroads.
After sharing these thoughts with a dear friend an interesting point/comment was raised and made; However frustrating it may be to not be in control, the one thing we have been given choice over is how we react. Where one passenger may have gotten annoyed, another may have spiralled into a sort of depression abandoning hope for the remaining plans of the day. Others could have welcomed the break taking it as an opportunity to catch up on reading or even sleep. I am learning that life doesn't stop because plans have changed; whether through choice or circumstance. It goes on, and our individual responses to the voluntary or involuntary changes affect and have a bearing on its progression.
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