Some years ago I was in a group to each of whose members I posed this question: “What are you waiting for?” It was directed to me as well. What I wrote in response isn’t outdated.
“What am I waiting for?” poses a major issue of faith for me.
Control—both having it and being subjected to it, or at least feeling as if I was subjected to it—has skewed my life. I have not been content to wait, to let go.
There is in me much of the characteristically Texan “go get ’em” spirit [and it is with much