One wait ends and then another begins.  Waiting for the alarm, waiting for the bark of Mr. Tucker, waiting for the phone to ring, waiting to feel some sense of satisfaction or inspiration from something.  Anything.  Sure there are moments of peaceful bliss when I see my son content in creating something all his own or my daughter unabashedly being a goof, but these moments I witness. They aren’t mine. They don’t fill the well of wanting, craving of worth and meaning and purpose.

I stand and feel the wind thrashing at my coat, the dog pulling at his leash, looking up at the clouds as they crash and burn against one another. Why isn’t this enough, appreciating my safe street with beauty overhead? There is no contentment here. This doesn’t mean anything. I often don’t get the ‘be here now’ sentiment when it is really nothing more than selfishly standing still. Okay, okay I still have to try and be in the moment I’m in, but this moment? Or the that one? Still so unsatisfying.

I am stripping away at the surface layers that I used to think meant something. That I used to think defined me. They don’t. I am no longer an artist, a wife, the one who feels she knows something about anything. I haven’t made anything in weeks. Months? I am not compelled as I have nothing to say. I cannot make things just for the sake of making them. There is no meaning in that for me. There is for many, but not for me. Our world is crowded with too many things and I wish to not contribute to that. And here is another waiting that envelopes me. Maybe the wait will never bring creative inspiration again. Maybe a flood will rise upon me so that I cannot sleep or eat and just immerse myself in it. I felt that once. Who knows if it will come again.

I am not fragile. I am not woe-is-me all mired in worry and lost. I am standing in the Wrinkle in Time space leaving back there and not seeing what’s up ahead.  It is weird and murky and I am unsteady…but not fragile.  As an emotional being there is this connotation of weakness and frailty. It is a lie. To be full of passion, wanting, and enthusiastic drive is for me to be alive, strong and vivacious. Awake.

There is more stripping away to be done. It is underway in my home, in my head and in my heart. I am making room, making open space. I will try to stand in it and not try to fill it. That will be a hard one. I realized yesterday that I had just begun to do that, filling it with a new found warmth in my life. It hasn’t appeared to fill this space, it is there to cultivate it.

I suddenly realize I am not waiting right now. Just for a minute, not thinking of what is next. Here I will stand for a little while.  Til next time…