I’m in the space of waiting, and it isn’t an easy space to be in. Two months ago I got an email from my friend George letting me know that there was a cottage available for sale in the little community he lives in. There were pictures in the email, and I was immediately taken by the look of this little place. More space than I have in my current rental, better kitchen (!!!), more light, and a 2nd bedroom! Plus, it’s a community!
I went to see it the next day, and fell in love with it. I had just learned the week before that I might have access to the money required, and now here was the perfect little cottage. There have been plenty of hurdles to clear, and I have cleared nearly all of them. However, we still don’t have a closing date, and there are financial factors that are out of my hands. Hence, the space of waiting…..
So I’ve had the somewhat disquieting sense of living in two places at once. Imaginally, I’m living in the new cottage, and yet I’m not actually there. I’m still here at Buck Rd. My mind has jumped ahead to the future, but the present will not be denied. And so, in the present, I’m waiting.
But what is this space? Immediately I see that it’s not a comfortable one, but how much of that is my own doing? Nearly all of it, I figure. The spaciousness of the present moment is totally obscured by my wanting it to be different. “I don’t want to be here, I want to be there…” And I have to say, it is not easy to bring myself back to what’s here now, as my mind and I are having such a good time imagining the future. “OMG, cooking in a real kitchen, OMG, I’m going to have a dishwasher again, OMG, enough light for houseplants!” And then the most unanswerable question (for now)—“What colors do I want, and where do they go?” (OMG, I get to PAINT!) Exciting as this is, it makes the space of waiting burdensome and frustrating, uncomfortable enough that I see I have to pay attention to what I’m doing—and do something different.
Yesterday my friend Kathy and I went for a drive in the country. We went up the mountains, past Windham, such beautiful land to ride through. We got out of the car to stretch our legs by Schoharie Creek. I’d drawn some cards from the Sidhe deck that morning, and one of them was Alliance with Nature, a hint I decided to take. I stood above the bank of the creek, watching the water rush past, looking at the landscape and the trees, bare and bony. Yes, there will be sprouting of tender leaves, and burgeoning growth, but not yet. What there is right now is the bones of the trees, unobscured by what is to come. The waters of the creek were full of motion, rushing from left to right from my vantage point, from “past” to “future”— with lots of ruffles as they encountered interruptions in their flow. And the trees remained still.
Nothing to do but to take in the peace of it all…. Plenty of room for both the rushing waters and the sentinel trees….Plenty of room for contrast and diversity. Nothing exiled, nothing preferred. Exhausted by wanting, of course I’d rather focus on the trees and their stillness. But the sound that filled my ears and my being was the sound of the rushing waters. And so I accept my rushing mind, even as I focus on the space that holds it all, the space of waiting…..