Waiting – Day Sixty Three

Photo by kids.nationalgeographic.com

Waiting

Man, waiting has to be one of the hardest things to do. Because, obviously, it requires us to not do. And for people who have been taught that not doing is lazy, uninspired, weak, or somehow obviously lacking in the qualities that make one a ‘winner,’ waiting can feel like torture.

Waiting requires patience and, to a certain extent, faith. Faith that in making the conscious decision to step back from activity, from taking action or doing something to change a situation in some tangible, affirmative way (move it forward, take it in a different direction, bring in a new catalyst), you are in fact ‘doing’ the right thing.

And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it?

Doing by not doing?

And Yoda Says…

Sounds so zen and new age-y. Or for those of us who love Star Wars, Yoda-like.

But there’s a huge wisdom to the concept. (Which, duh, is why Yoda espoused it.) And because our society positively reveres action, striving, leaning into, hurdling over, and winning!, waiting can feel like losing. Or giving up.

It can feel like suicide.

So when we’re asked to wait – by other people, institutions, circumstances, or Spirit – we can actually feel more stressed over standing down than we would if we were given a task universally thought to be impossible to achieve. Because doing is better than not doing. Because when asked to do the impossible, we rise to the challenge like starving goldfish to the fish food dispenser. Because even if we fail to achieve that (impossible) goal, if we tried really hard, if we did our best, if we gave it our all, then at least we couldn’t be blamed for not succeeding. Right?

In an informal survey of people close to me, there are a startlingly large number of people being asked to wait as we begin living our version of 2019. I can think of at least a dozen people I know (myself being one of them) being asked – no, directed – to be patient. To wait.

Perhaps we are being asked to allow the rest of the world to catch up to us.

Perhaps the circumstances that we will need to make the most out of the idea we’re percolating, or the deal we know is perfect, haven’t fallen into place yet. Maybe we don’t even know yet what those missing pieces are. And maybe we will never know.

We Need to Trust

Yet they need to fall into place for the rest of our vision to come into being. If we don’t know what they are, but they’re essential to the ‘mission,’ then we need to trust. And wait.

Maybe we’re being asked to give ourselves the opportunity to muster our inner and/or outer resources so that when it comes time to deploy them, they are fully replenished and abundantly accessible and renewable. So we wait.

My point is that we simply Do. Not. Know. And it’s an illusion to always think we know best; that we know how things are supposed to unfold. We know what comes next in our Grand Plan.

If this dance with doing/not doing feels uncomfortably familiar, I feel you.

Last year, on New Year’s Day 2018, Karl and I chose our Medicine Cards like we do every other day. But of course, when we choose on New Year’s Day we accord it special meaning. We ascribe to that pick our theme for the year.

A Prairie Dog Year – Last Year

In 2018, I chose Prairie Dog/Raven.

Prairie Dog’s key word is Retreat. And Raven’s key word is Magic.

To be honest, I was psyched. Toward the end of 2017, I’d started getting the feeling that 2018 was going to be the year I finally, finally stopped talking about it and devoted my time to digging deep into writing the sequel to Owl Medicine.

Good Goddess. I’ve only known the essence of that sequel since I lived it a million years ago.

But it didn’t happen. Instead, it was a really rough year for us in a myriad of ways. It took a lot of my focus to just keep us on track and our eyes forward. There was not a lot of opportunity to give myself the inner seclusion I need to write. No opportunity to retreat – at least, in the way I had envisioned I would, or for the purpose I assumed.

Eventually I had to let go of my certainty that 2018 was the year of writing my next book. (Indeed, I’m so damn tired of even thinking there will be a sequel, I hesitate to even bring it up here.)

I was forced to wait. And wait some more. And pivot. Put out fires. Dance around and make things work, but wait on the urge to complete my manuscript. My work was to keep our collective act together and wait for the Universe to move things – people and opportunities –  I had not notion of a year ago into place that would allow forward movement when the time was right.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I picked my cards for 2019.

(T-1048)

Photo: defendersblog.org