Breathingin a waiting room

The problem with waiting

Waiting is the hardest kind of time because it is not yours. You cannot leave, you cannot start anything, and the thing you are waiting for is the thing you are afraid of. Most of us fill it with our phones, which keeps the mind busy and leaves the body clenched. By the time your name is called, your shoulders are up and your breath is high in your chest, and you walk in already tired.

A different way to sit

Feet flat on the floor. Both of them, if you can. Feel the floor take your weight. Hands on your thighs or in your lap, not holding the phone.

Now breathe out slowly, as if you were steaming up a window. Let the in-breath come by itself. Out again, slow. You do not need to count. You need the out-breath to be unhurried and the in-breath to be left alone.

Do this for as long as you like. Nobody can see what your breathing is doing. To the room you are just a person sitting quietly, which is what everyone is pretending to be.

Where to put your eyes

Not on the door. Not on the screen with the names. Pick something low and still: a mark on the floor, the leg of a chair, your own hands. Or look out of a window if there is one. Let your eyes rest on it the way they rest on a fire.

If the thoughts come, let them come. You are not trying to stop thinking about the appointment. You are trying to sit with your feet on the floor and your breath long while you think about it. That is enough.

Before you go in

When your name is called, take one more slow breath before you stand. One. Then stand up, and walk in with your shoulders where they have settled, which is lower than they were.

If you are going in with someone else, you can do this together without a word. Feet down, long breath out. They will notice, and many will copy you.

Afterwards

The car park is a waiting room too. Sit in the car for two minutes before you drive. Same thing. Feet, breath, a point to look at. Then go.