“Sometimes, the wait is where the magic happens. Not in the arrival, but in the quiet moments of anticipation.“
We live in a world that celebrates speed. Faster networks, quicker replies, instant results. In all of this, the idea of waiting often gets a bad reputation—viewed as wasted time, a gap to be filled, an inconvenience. But lately, I’ve been wondering: is there a hidden joy in waiting?
I often remind myself and others that time is precious. It must be respected—both our own and that of others. Keeping someone waiting, especially without prior notice, can seem careless and even disrespectful. In the professional world, this can have serious consequences. Repeated instances of delay without communication can erode trust and damage relationships.
But then, there’s a different kind of waiting—one that’s deeply personal, even emotional. I have discovered a unique joy in waiting for someone I care about.
As a child, I vividly remember the excitement of waiting for my parents to return from their travels. The anticipation of seeing them walk through the door, and perhaps the surprise of a small gift, would override the impatience of the wait.
Friendships, too, have their own rhythm of waiting. I must admit—more often than not, my friends ended up waiting for me! Perhaps that’s the beauty of friendship—you can take liberties, knowing they come from a place of love.
In my teenage years, waiting took on a new flavour —waiting for someone I admired, perhaps a girlfriend. That sweet mix of nerves and excitement made every moment special.
Today, I feel a similar emotion when I wait for my wife. A bit of anticipation, a touch of anxiety—it adds a gentle spark to the wait.
But nothing compares to the joy of waiting for my children. As a parent, some of my most treasured moments have come from simply being there—dropping them off, picking them up, building my routine around these moments. It gave me a chance to connect, to pause, and to truly be present. It taught me patience, and offered a window into their world that I would never trade for anything else.
Even today, I look for such opportunities—those little pockets of time that let me slow down and reconnect.
So yes, there is joy in waiting. Especially when it’s done with intention, with love, and with open communication. Waiting doesn’t have to be passive. It can be purposeful, meaningful, and even joyful.
And as I write this, I’m sitting quietly, waiting to pick up my daughter from her college. And you know what? It feels just right.
Author: Raghuraman Kadambi
Image credit – AI Generated Image