Our Love/Hate Relationship With Waiting

If waiting is so good for us, why do we hate it so much? I'm not referring to waiting in line at the market. I'm talking about the kind of waiting that requires a more majestic word. Anticipation is more appropriate. When we are anticipating that moment of gratification-a promotion we've worked so hard for, the wedding we've spent our childhood planning, love's first kiss- we sit on the edge of our seats and wait. It feels like agony, as if the world stands still and waits with us. Then, for that brief moment when the wait comes to an end, we are satisfied, and the earth resumes it's course. Yet we know all too well that the clock also resumes it's ticking and time, it's relentless advantage. Though all is well, it is not as it should be. We begin to miss the stirring- the desire of anticipation, that uneasy longing. Do we have a sort of primal thirst for whatever it is that we do not have? Because the moment we have it, the thirst creeps up again for a new conquest. Could we perhaps learn to love anticipation for what it is? It is the great expectation from which true passion arises.