Waiting
Field Notes No. 012 · On uncertainty
Waiting is an uncomfortable thing.
Although I do wonder if there are cultural differences in the human response to this state… but for the purposes of this field note I shall assume that we all find waiting rather uncomfortable.
It’s not the minutes themselves.
But everything they allow our minds to do.
Over the years, I’ve noticed people while they wait.
Someone standing at a reception desk.
A couple waiting for a table.
A guest arriving before their room is ready.
At first, people seem entirely at ease. They almost expect to wait for a moment… that’s reasonable.
They look around.
They chat.
They admire the room.
Then, almost imperceptibly, something changes.
They glance towards the host.
They check their watch.
They look at the door.
Their attention shifts from where they are to what might, or might not, happen next.
I’ve come to believe that people are made uncomfortable by uncertainty.
Have I been seen?
Do they know I’m here?
Am I waiting in the right place?
Should I ask again?
Have they forgotten me?
Do I belong?
The questions arrive long before impatience does.
Well considered hospitality cannot always remove the wait.
Sometimes that simply isn’t possible.
But it removes the uncertainty that surrounds it.
A glance across the room.
A smile that says, I’ve seen you.
A sentence that says, We’ll be with you in five minutes.
A coffee offered while a room is prepared.
None of these make time pass more quickly.
They do something much more important.
They replace uncertainty with reassurance.
I’ve noticed something else.
When people understand what’s happening, they become remarkably patient.
Not because they enjoy waiting.
But because they no longer feel forgotten.
Waiting is rarely about time.
It’s about whether someone feels acknowledged while time passes.
Perhaps that’s one of hospitality’s quietest responsibilities.
Not simply to manage time.
But to ensure that, while people wait, they never have to wonder whether they matter.
/Heidi