The Hidden Benefits of Delays
How Slammed Plans Form Us
Have you noticed the freeway sign, “Expect Delays”? Why is there no sign saying, “Clear Sailing”? My default mode is to expect—or at least desire—clear sailing, and I become frustrated when thwarted. Signs like this help me adjust my attitude. Recently, I had a new experience of being told the approximate wait time in a doctor’s office. Knowing this made me surprisingly happy to wait, unlike countless times of begrudging a waste of time. Why do such simple things change my mindset?
“Expect delays” helps me adjust my expectations, but it’s also message of hope. A delay is a slowdown or postponement of something. It’s not permanent. If there were signs saying “Expect Dead Ends” one might see a sharp rise in road rage. A delay signals the need for patience for a limited time. Knowing there is an end—and how long it takes to get there—signals the need to wait more patiently.
Heeding this signal is hard, especially for first world people unaccustomed to not getting what they want—or pay for. Growing up in Germany, I noticed how American tourists were often demanding, but I often found myself in a similar predicament. One time I asked a server to bring me salt and pepper. Her officious response was, “Sie sind zu anspruchsvoll!” (“You are too demanding!”) This was not an isolated experience. Asking for extra napkins, substituting menu items, and returning items to a store were met with scorn and resistance. It annoyed me because they had the ability to give me what I wanted, but they didn’t want to do it. It’s quite another thing in a culture unable to meet such demands. There it is easier to be patient and understanding.
As we emerge from the pandemic, we have multiple opportunities to accept delays. The global supply chain is slowed down by a lack of components and shipping issues. Service industries struggle to keep up with demand, court cases are backlogged, and on it goes. Producers of goods and services find themselves apologizing to customers, and customers are frustrated. Some lash out with vicious attacks. The frustration is understandable, but counterproductive. A better approach is needed.
It starts with stepping back and looking at our lives more broadly to include the perspectives of people with dead ends. In my online community of breast cancer survivors is a group with metastatic disease (MBC). This group does not have the luxury of delays but lives under the threat of the train barreling toward them. Their treatments are constant, long, and harsh, and they are patients for life. In some cases, new and experimental drugs offer more time, but they only treat, not cure the disease. They have much to teach us about accepting delays.
Delays are a chance for me to stand in solidarity with people who suffer and live on the margins of society. I become thankful for the hope contained in a delay, the luxury of knowing that my slammed plans aren’t permanent. Once I broaden my focus from my immediate concerns and frustrations, I have the choice to welcome the perspectives of vast numbers of people for whom delays are a permanent condition. Do I use the delay as an opportunity to build solidarity with them or do I continue to complain and insist things go my way? Who knows what practical actions come out of this attitude adjustment?
People living with dead ends have much to teach us about living better. I featured Abigail Johnston in an earlier post called “When Well-Meaning Words Don’t Land Well” (March 14, 2021). She writes honestly about the physical, emotional, and spiritual challenges of living with MBC. Many of my online friends are prolific writers of blogs and books, and some start non-profits. I subscribe to a weekly round-up of some of their blog posts at https://journeyingbeyondbreastcancer.com. Their courage to directly address how to live with death and their stamina are remarkable. Knowing their time is finite ignites a fire to share what really matters in life. These people are heroes and should be treated like rock stars. Some are reluctant to read about their struggles because they feel it might be depressing, or they don’t relate to them. But omitting their experience from our lives robs us of the opportunity to peek outside our silos and expand our perspectives.
This forms us into deeper, more compassionate people. My mom was recently in an acute rehab center after a week in the hospital for pulmonary embolisms. The staff in such places is special. With highly developed empathy skills, they get inside their patients’ skin to know what they need as they build back their capabilities after severe setbacks. The change is often slow and incremental, but my ninety-five-year-old mom was back on her feet after two weeks. The staff showed me that compassion and empathy are not just for people with nice dispositions but are available to all.
Whether we work in medicine, business, education, on the field, or at home, we encounter opportunities to learn from people with insurmountable obstacles. My son’s production company made a video for donors of a hospice program. The language in the video captures the experiences and needs of families facing death. As a business owner, my son was inspired by how the person running the program tuned into the needs of his patients at the most difficult juncture of their lives. See https://elevatedmediaproductions.com/portfolio/trinitycare/. Opportunities for solidarity with such people abound if we are willing to accept delays.
The six handshakes rule reveals that people are six—or fewer—connections from one another. Connecting with others is not hard; deciding to do so is the hard part.