I seem to be doing a lot of waiting these days. The idea of spending my time waiting is a bit more enticing now that Advent is here. Before Advent waiting felt more like wasting time. And during some of my darker days waiting was really how I spent the day, going through the motions of cleaning, writing, talking, all the while waiting for the day to be over so I could go to sleep. Waiting to go to sleep to escape feeling and thinking makes waiting feel even longer. Waiting to go to sleep in order to find reprieve from situations in which nothing else can be done, except wait it out, "this too shall pass." This kind of waiting is one variation on the "dark night of the soul" spiritual crisis, where the darkness calls out like a gift from God. Succoming to the darkness has its merits. Giving in to the occasional reality - that every time one thinks that one is able to climb out of the hole the hole just gets deeper - brings a kind of submission, humility, serenity.Thankfully not all of my waiting is that kind of waiting.
There are other kinds of waiting that I do. Waiting for phone calls or emails or comments to things I've written and posted on blogs. Waiting to hear back. Waiting for the cake to bake or dinner to be ready. Waiting for my lunch date. Waiting for friends to arrive. Waiting until my husband comes home. Waiting to see the doctor/dentist/opthomologist. This kind of waiting fills entire days and often feels like wasted time, waiting. I have better things to do, than wait like this. But it too happens.
Most mornings I do a 20 minute yoga practice that includes a few minutes of meditation. Some mornings I go through the practice, go through the motions, waiting for it be over so I can check this off my "To Do" list. But on other mornings I allow myself to sink into the moment and let time wash over me unattended. On these mornings even the DVD moves too fast, guiding me through the postures too quickly, so slow do I desire to be, for time to pass. I sit in the silent meditation longer than usual. Breathing. Still. Peace-filled. Waiting for my mind to quiet, and yet, not waiting at all. Being. Simply being.
Advent is a time, a season that pulls on me in all these ways. Hurry up and wait. The long dark nights do call out to me, a luxury of silence, a cup of tea and a gentle fire flickering soft light. I love the night. True, I also love the long summer days, but I am willing to take each season as it comes and appreciate what it brings. Waiting. Wondering.
What will this season bring?
