The in between times

resting period

There are in between times when we sit and wait, waiting for things to happen, waiting for a decision or next step to become clear. Transitions. Being a parent of a small child, I have learned that transition times are a time for tender kind care because it is where meltdowns happen, where confusion happens. Where you are literally in between one distinct thing and the next distinct thing. A time where there is uncertainty about what comes next and a space that can easily be filled with fear, worry, doubt, questioning, any distractions that can provide a measure of comfort. They are happening all the time in ways big and small. In between is the resting period.

Sometimes all we can do is wait for the next thing to sprout or bloom. I think about the times when I plant my garden. My lotus flower that I planted right at the beginning of summer in the year Andres died took almost 2 months to bloom. When we harvested the seeds, it was another 2 months of careful care and attention of keeping the seeds in clean, fresh water , watching and waiting for the first green shoot to break the seed open and sprout.

Nature seems to be so much quick simple action followed by waiting. Waiting for the seed to sprout open, for it to grow, to bloom, to bear fruit. Something that existed only as possibility finding the right moment to emerge as as a formed being.

In one recent cycle of waiting, I was struck by the day my creative energy started moving again. It was the day when my words came back. Specifically what emerged was the clear fluidity and flow of how they fit together as a reflection of where I found myself after navigating a transformative time. It was not just words, it was also excitement, enthusiasm, it was movement. I felt the shift internally as if the healing of the yellow jacket stings was walking me through step by step.