Nearly everyone I know right now seems to be in some sort of transitional mode that feels like “waiting.” We’re certainly waiting for our new president to take office of course, and waiting for congress to make decisions about economic recovery packages and greenhouse gases and overseas wars. That list seems endless.
But for myself, I seem to be doing another level of waiting. I’m waiting for something, but I don’t know what it is that I’m waiting for. It feels like I’m waiting “at the abyss” as Robert Romanyshyn writes in his book, Ways of the Heart. Romanyshyn writes about having the courage to stand at the abyss, “as a witness, not a judge, for what asks to be seen and spoken.”
These lines by T.S. Eliot capture it: “I said to my soul be still, and wait without hope; for hope would be hope of the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith. But the faith, and the love, and the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought…”
I’m waiting empty.