ministrations of waiting
by bam
they are the necessary lulls. the pauses between breath. the sometimes awful, often angst-filled hours of not knowing. of waiting.
of not yet filling in the blanks with answers just around the bend.
i am waiting now. waiting now that one editor has signed off, has passed along a final manuscript to another, to the one who decides. who deems yea, or hmm, maybe you should take another crack at this….
and if you are composed of the filaments and synapses that are mine, this is where all sorts of goblins filter in. you begin to imagine conversations. you picture emails. most of them begin, “i’m so sorry….”
you imagine the worst. you imagine, because at some deep sad level it must reflect the deepest reflection of your vision of your soul, that you’ve not measured up. will never measure up.
i’d thought it might be wise to not put these words to paper (so-called paper, anyway). but then i thought, oh geez, too many of us share this plight. we doubt ourselves before we’re given one chance to rise up, to shine.
so here i wait. and while i wait, i realize that the wisest thing for me to do — besides turn the dial on the little voices that fill my head, that convince me of my unworthiness — is to get about the business of tending to the oft-pushed-aside quotidian. the season’s turning calls to me. the night’s chilled air begs attention. there are bulbs to tuck into the gashes of the earth. there are long-frond ferns who beg for warmth inside, who promise green through winter. or at least through thanksgiving.
i missed last year’s call to tuck in for winter slumber. i was far away, and could not tend to the bulbs, the fronds, the birds that have come to depend on me. so i’ve been out already this morning, out since well before the inky dawn was rubbed away. i was out with my buckets of seeds, i was out unearthing bulbs from the layers of crinkled newspaper that blanket them, that i pray kept them safe enough through the night that grew colder while i was not paying attention.
the earth does that: turns on and on without heed to whether we are paying attention. if we notice, if we tuck the bulbs before they freeze, well then glory is the prize come springtime. if not, if we blew it, weren’t worthy of the glory, well then the earth will not crack, no green shoot will rise, no heirloom hyacinth or bread-and-butter daffodil will trumpet.
i will soothe myself with the apothecary of the home and garden that i’ve claimed as my surest cure for almost anything that ails me. i will slow cook. and dig in the garden. i will sit in dappled light, with sweaters round my shoulders. i will drink in arcing sunlight, and winged shadow. i will tend the tender shoots and leaves that depend on me. i will practice believing that the pause is not about my falling short, but rather simply for another reason.
i will try. this practice doesn’t come without its stumbles. this practice is emboldened with a sturdy trowel, and a box of bulbs begging to be tucked where they will thrive. after a long winter’s pause.
do you too suffer the plight of the deep gnawing misgiving? the cursed lack of faith? the scourge of never thinking you are good enough?
What I love most about pulling up to this table is it makes me stop….and reflect. I don’t acknowledge this point in the process. I usually just wait till the moment fosters my awareness some how and then write it up. Right now though I am in that nesting place and just want to say that it is a good place to be…..just nesting and waiting. Yep…it is a very tender spot to be, but so perfect too. It is when all our receptors are most alive.
and i love that you so often pick up my synapse where i leave it dangling, and take it to a richer, wiser, deeper, enlightened place….
can anyone really think, at root base of honesty, that they are good enough? does asking the question presuppose the answer, the negative? i know of a man uber accomplished, at root still trying to show he is good enough. good enough for whom? perhaps it is the yin and yang, that we pursue and so we ask. mindfulness is key. an acceptance in the present moment. we give as we are. all else is other.
thank you for hearing the universality of my question. i love you, sweet d.
so timely and wise, as always. makes me want to head out to our park right now and start churning up dirt in the moonlight… keep right on tending, and know that all that you are is enough. more than enough, really and truly. xo
bless your heart, sweet heart. bless it and bless it….
It makes me a little sad to think that you, of all the people I have known, have moments where you do not think you are good enough. Have no doubt. You are truly amazing.
bless your heart, my beautiful friend. it breaks my heart a little too. and i see it with people i ADORE all the time. don’t you think most of us spend wayyyyy too much time not thinking we’re (fill in the blank) enough? it’s what makes the mountain climb so steep sometimes. and if we keep whispering in each other’s ear, maybe some day we’ll begin to understand….
I can’t help but compare the bulbs placed in the cold ground with hopes they will pay off with a fragrant reward at the end of the waiting to what you’ve planted putting words together in that magnificent way of yours. Times and seasons, waiting and reaping – principles of life.
I think we all have self-doubt in varying degrees … even the most brilliant minds have probably second guessed themselves. But, dear one, God Himself gave you that incredible talent of taking words and weaving them into a thing of absolute beauty. I’m proud of you for taking this giant leap.
I’m your biggest fan and your loudest cheerleader … if you listen very closely, you’ll hear my rah-rahs. xoxo
bles your beautiful believing heart. and all your wisdoms…..
Stumbling right along with you. How did this find me at just the right moment? If you, with all your skill and talent, can feel such doubts, maybe my doubts are not my destiny either.
How did this find me at just the right time? If you, with all your skill and talent, can feel such doubts, maybe my doubts are not my destiny either.
darling, holding the mirror right back at you. YOU are the brilliant one, the unsurpassed one. i think some of us are just born to doubt our deepest selves….do you think we might learn to outgrow that? i am forever here to remind you: you’re the best of the best. xoxox