Two Hours In the Waiting Room

Mindfulness + Observation = Creativity

What do you do in the waiting room? Most people occupy themselves with their phones. Some stare at whatever lame drivel is coming from the television (if there is a television). Old schoolers look at magazines.

Most of the time, I find myself in the first group. What better way to pass the time than mindlessly scrolling through newsfeeds? Actually, I do know a better way. It's not a new idea, or a unique idea, but it sure beats eye strain and tech neck.

I carry a small notebook in my bag at all times. I use it to jot down notes and phrases that come to me while I am out and about. I don't use it that often because I'm usually distracted with the task at hand to let my mind wander, but it comes in handy in waiting rooms.

The New Buzzword

Mindfullness is the new buzzword. Everyone is talking about how society is too distracted, too fast paced, too busy. The way to alleviate the stress that comes from all of this activity is to take time to live in the present moment. 

​Mindfulness is the psychological process of bringing one's attention to experiences occurring in the present moment, which can be developed through the practice of meditation and other training.

I've been practicing yoga for several years, so mindfulness and meditation are a part of my everyday life. I find myself practicing mindfulness in little ways throughout the day, even better, I notice that I notice things. Being self-aware during these moments is exciting, if you're into that sort of thing, which I am.

Observation is a Treasure Chest

As I've mentioned before, people ask me how I come up with my stories. How do I invent characters, settings, and plots? Most of the time, the answer lies in observation of my surroundings and documenting those observations. If I don't write it down, I will forget, unless it's an extrememly unusual experience. However, I have found that observing and documenting a seemingly mundane scene can be quite interesting and valuable.

For example, one day, I spent two hours in the waiting room at the doctor's office. It was an unusual circumstance, and I had my notebook with me, so I stayed until my name was called. While waiting, I documented my observations of the scene, and tried to look non-chalant while studying the other people in the room. It felt a bit like I was a character in a spy novel.

Below are my observations, typed as written, with editorial comments in brackets:

---

9/2/15
--John Galt-Atlas Shrugged [no idea why this is here]

*Waiting room of doctor's office
nine waiters besides myself are complaining--no make it 10 waiters.       Woman been here the longest just coughed wet + rattly, gross.
    The pungent, overpowering smell of cigarettes someone tried to cover with scented spray
  Coughing woman and man are giving up. Their phones keep beeping.
   A woman in scrubs just left from the back room with the sneers and scowls of 10 waiters in tow.
    A man wears a dark red t-shirt. Bald, has a 10 inch pointy grey + silver beard. Explaining carpet costs to companion.
(Goddam loud phone - turn it off lady.)
     Beard guy is still animated, hasn't been here long enough to grow weary
     Another cough + complaint.
   There's nothing you can do but wait. Two hours invested is a long time to give up now.
   I'm writing because my phone's battery is low. The lights in this room are yellow and eye-straining.
     I wonder if the waiters think about why McG [the doctor] is late. Emergency surgery, perhaps? A child perhaps? Having been on the receiving end of his excellent care, I'm a patient patient.
   If the waiters give up, I'll get in sooner. It's a marathon of endurance.
     Complaining gets you nowhere.
   Clearly, these people haven't serious problems or have forgotten what their conditions did to them.
   Woman waiter, complaining, loud phone, large pink purse, coughing, large [unfinished?]
     Woman just whined
     "Unbelievable".
    Older gentleman near door, glasses, white thin hair, lt. blue polo, navy creased pants, matching socks and shiny burgundy loafers, reading quietly + calmly
      He knows. He has time.
  I think it's a James Patterson paperback. Trying not to laugh because Margaret would flip out [my daughter used to work as a page in the public library, and she'd always complain about the hundreds of Patterson books that needed shelving every day]
     Workmen are in the mechanical room making all sorts of noises. One guy discussing PVC pipe sizes with the other. Only voices, not seen. The on and off is grating on my nerves, but alas can't be helped, so I accept.
     Ears perk to the sound of a door opening. energy peaks in the air then dies.
     The older pople in the room are dressed nicer, as if going to afternoon tea. Older man beside me scans room for a Golf Digest magazine, spots one on table across the way, rises, stretches, grasps--success. Just now pointed out all the places (I'm guessing courses) he's been to. "Been here + here..."
     His wife says "Mm-hm"
  Voices from the back room are clearly heard. Loud local Mass [achusetts] accents. All business, so much for HIPAA.
   Wife with magazine man has her own magazine. Upon stealing a glance, she's wearing a bright green blouse. She + her husband clash. His colors are brown pants, lt. grey suede loafers, pastel blue + pink striped shirt. His hair is dark, his wife's pure white.
     Complainers just got called into the office. Wonder how pleasant they'll be. I'll respect them more if they say something or show their anger.
 Man reading Patterson pb [paberback] left with his wife.
   Pointy beard guy has tattoo on upper right arm - in line with beard. I wonder if he rides a motorcycle. Not today. No helmet. 
     Fresh face in waiting room. Woman in perf. coord. [perfectly coordinated] black + white floral top, black capris + shiny black sandals. Crimson pedicure, French manicured nails. Filling out health forms. Must be new here. Small red leather purse for accent color - a "pop" of color.
     One strike - her hair is pulled back with a black claw clip/plastic.
    I wonder how people in here are observing me?
    Filter tour t-shirt, cargo pants, black strap sport sandals, black multi-zippered satchel, writing in tiny journal with a free green + white Hometown Bank pen. The ink is black too, of course. 
  Layers of sound, appt. [appointment] reminder calls, machine growling, turning pages, chewing gum, young child + mother, hum of AC system, shuffling feet + legs.
      My eyes are blurry.
   Must look around more, get my head ready for my head exam. Hopefully not too long now. Although complainer couple will prob. [probably] squeeze their money's worth out of their face time with McG. I think I'm next, not sure.
    There's a fake ficus on the other side of the the waiting room window.
     (The man beside me just blew on a mag [azine] page - why?)
   The tree looks like it's peeking around the corner into the room, or hiding behind the sheer curtain, hoping to go unnoticed.
     What a life that tree has - if it's real - can't tell. To come into being under the sun - or at least the lamps of a nursery where it's fed and watered, among it's own kind. Probably quiet. Only to end up in a dank old smelly doctor's office. Shoved in the corner, neglected living thing. Outside is a neglected neighborhood.
     Old people next to me quipping a/b [about] Kanye West running for pres. [president] in 2020. Good or bad that they know who he is?
     Vernon Hill Worcester is not a nice place to visit. Can't imagine living here. Watched some people carrying groceries from the trunk of a taxi to the 2nd flooor tenement. Overweight woman, 10 yr old boy, young man. Six bags for the whole week? Decrepid house. Depressing. Whole area is depressing. [judgemental opinion noted, not a proud moment, but in the interest of honesty, I fight the urge to delete this paragraph]
     Beard man + wife are watching a funny video with kittens + babies. Laughing out loud to pass the time. At least they're happy. Haven't been here long enough still, yet, I guess.
     Donald Trump stares at me from the cover of Time Magazine. Upside down. Headline: Deal With It. Jesus Christ, enough already.
     I just counted the chairs: 22 army green vinyl covered chairs with black metal frames. 6 square brown wood tables - stained
     Woman in bright green blouse is classy. Coif [coiffure], silver clip earrings, off white ballet flats, black wide leg trousers, make-up well done.
      The middle table casts a shadow on the floor that looks like an art deco owl. Waiting room Rorschach Test. 
    Beard man + wife are non stop small talk, chit chat. People pass the time in many ways. Trivial, significant, quiet, loud, sleepy, observant, whiny, angry patient.
     Pass the time, like one passes the butter or salt?
     Why have I ever passed the time? Why is this [unfinished sentence?]
     Beard man just said "b/c [because] he pooped in it" out of context. Beard man's wife is reading texts from teen daughter out loud. Teen is at movies complaining about her boyfriend. Conversation switches between texts on Beard man wife's phone texts and beard man's ebay discoveries.
    Beard man's wife is wearing pale yellow sleeveless t-shirt + green shorts. Together they remind me of ketchup + mustard. Discussing pack n plays? 
       So confusing.
     Big guy in corner has been quiet. Grey t-shirt cargo shorts horn rimmmed reading glasses. Nose in phone. Not complaining.
     Newbies just came in. Woman with tablet, blue green plaid blouse, hair up in clip, jeans, denim loafers like Tommy Hilfiger.
   Man in lime green button shirt, muted stripe tie, grey dockers. Both look mid-50's, pleasant enough. We'll see, but I hope to not be here that long.
  Now man in green shirt has checkbook + brown loafers. He's filling out the forms. Wife has 80's inspired jewel tone + white duffel bag purse.
    I will stare into space before I touch an office magazine. I've touched my face too much already. I feel contaminated. I should have gone pee but now I don't dare. Might miss my turn. 
     80's bag woman has reading glasses on jeweled chain that seems to have come from a thrift shop or flea market.
       Stomach is growling.
    Beard man had sunglasses on his bald head, which is down, pointed at phone. I looked up and thought he was looking at me for a split second.
     Another new guy. Jean baggy shorts, late 40's, cane, green t-shirt with tribal design, balding, smaller - I could beat him in a fight if I had to - minus the cane, white kicks + socks, scruffy beard, just made eye contact, awkward + creepy if you're imaginitive.

Give it a Try

As you see, I began to ramble a bit at the end. I blame full bladder and empty stomach. I managed to turn an extremely long wait time into a pretty productive excercise. This is where writers get their ideas. 

Who knows? Maybe pointy beard guy will be a character in my next novel.

I challenge everyone to give observation a try the next time you're in a waiting room, or a long line. Even if you don't write it down, at least observe and take note of people...without being creepy, of course.