I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away. In high school, I was biding my time until I could become the college version of myself, the one my mind could see so clearly. In college, the post-college “adult” person was always looming in front of me, smarter, stronger, more organized. Then the married person, then the person I’d become when we have kids. For twenty years, literally, I have waited to become the thin version of myself, because that’s when life will really begin.And through all that waiting, here I am. My life is passing, day by day, and I am waiting for it to start. I am waiting for that time, that person, that event when my life will finally begin.I love movies about “The Big Moment” – the game or the performance or the wedding day or the record deal, the stories that split time with that key event, and everything is reframed, before it and after it, because it has changed everything. I have always wanted this movie-worthy event, something that will change everything and grab me out of this waiting game into the whirlwind in front of me. I cry and cry at these movies, because I am still waiting for my own big moment. I had visions of life as an adventure, a thing to be celebrated and experienced, but all I was doing was going to work and coming home, and that wasn’t what it looked like in the movies.John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” For me, life is what was happening while I was busy waiting for my big moment. I was ready for it and believed that the rest of my life would fade into the background, and that my big moment would carry me through life like a lifeboat.The Big Moment, unfortunately, is an urban myth. Some people have them, in a sense, when they win the Heisman or become the next American Idol. But even that football player or that singer is living a life made up of more than that one moment. Life is a collection of a million, billion moments, tiny little moments and choices, like a handful of luminous, glowing pearl. It takes so much time, and so much work, and those beads and moments are so small, and so much less fabulous and dramatic than the movies.But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that move-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets – this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of use will ever experience.
The frequent hearing of my mistress readingthe bible--for she often read aloud when herhusband was absent--soon awakened mycuriosity in respect to this mystery of reading,and roused in me the desire to learn. Having nofear of my kind mistress before my eyes, (shehad given me no reason to fear,) I frankly askedher to teach me to read; and without hesitation,the dear woman began the task, and very soon,by her assistance, I was master of the alphabet,and could spell words of three or fourletters...Master Hugh was amazed at thesimplicity of his spouse, and, probably for thefirst time, he unfolded to her the true philosophyof slavery, and the peculiar rules necessary tobe observed by masters and mistresses, in themanagement of their human chattels. Mr. Auldpromptly forbade the continuance of her[reading] instruction; telling her, in the firstplace, that the thing itself was unlawful; that itwas also unsafe, and could only lead to mischief.... Mrs. Auld evidently felt the force ofhis remarks; and, like an obedient wife, beganto shape her course in the direction indicated byher husband. The effect of his words, on me,was neither slight nor transitory. His ironsentences--cold and harsh--sunk deep into myheart, and stirred up not only my feelings into asort of rebellion, but awakened within me aslumbering train of vital thought. It was a newand special revelation, dispelling a painfulmystery, against which my youthfulunderstanding had struggled, and struggled invain, to wit: the white man's power to perpetuatethe enslavement of the black man. "Very well,"thought I; "knowledge unfits a child to be aslave." I instinctively assented to theproposition; and from that moment I understoodthe direct pathway from slavery to freedom. Thiswas just what I needed; and got it at a time, andfrom a source, whence I least expected it....Wise as Mr. Auld was, he evidently underratedmy comprehension, and had little idea of theuse to which I was capable of putting theimpressive lesson he was giving to his wife....That which he most loved I most hated; and thevery determination which he expressed to keepme in ignorance, only rendered me the moreresolute in seeking intelligence.