‘Are we nearly there yet?’ You said it. I said it. We all said it. Vomiting into sun hats in the back of boiling hot cars, being dragged off on walks with the promise of an ice cream, seasick on some horror of a ferry, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’
And we thought we’d grown out of it, passed the baton to another generation of whining littl’uns. We thought we’d left that behind; the desperation, the hope, the slight nausea, the wondering what happens next, ‘Are we nearly there yet?’
And yet, here we stand/sit/lie, wondering about Brexit – are we nearly there yet? Wondering about becoming who we are truly meant to be – are we nearly there yet? Wondering about meeting the man – are we nearly there yet? Wondering when our career will blossom into something impressive enough to count as legacy – are we nearly there yet?
And we, of course, dealing with the potential tragedy of the near miss. The hideous frustration of almost, almost, bit more, go on then, yes, yes, yes… oh. Please God let life not become about the ‘oh’.
But we must see our ‘Are we nearly there yet?’ as a sign of hunger rather than one of discontent. As a mark of ambition instead of an emblem of whinge and grouch and disappointment.
If we manage to twin this conjecture with gratitude then we are rooted yet moving forwards, grateful but not yet replete. That is perhaps the key. Hard to remember when you are wondering when you might get what you want or need, when you feel exhausted and let down. But gratitude will counteract longing and, in the end, might give you wings…