Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Waiting

I bought some vegetable starts to plant, some kohlrabi, lettuce, beets and broccoli. I am not very good with starting seeds indoors. For one thing, there really is not enough space in the house, and for another, the vegetables that are best started indoors can easily be purchased as starts at the local organic food store. The truth? Buying starts gives me some instant gardening gratification while the seeds I sow outdoors are still germinating.
The art of waiting starting slipping away from me a while back. I got a cell phone and a faster computer and found ever ready excuses for driving instead of taking the bus. I wonder how I ever found the time to wait for a library search of books in order to learn some bit of information. With a swipe of my finger there is more information than I could ever need. The sex of my unborn grandchildren can be known long before they are born. Gone are the days of waiting for a letter to come in the mail.
It is true that waiting is not always an experience that is grace filled. It often comes hand in hand with anxiety, frustration and sometimes, fear. Perhaps that is why waiting is so easily bypassed whenever there is an option.
There are many things to feel anxious about. I don't know how the story will end in Japan. The ongoing wars are frustrating and cause for concern. I don't know when life as it is now known will shift to accommodate climate change, localized economies, and an end to cheap energy. It is possible to conjure up images of a future time that create anxiety, frustration and fear. But living in those images cuts me off from the now that is in the presence of the people and the community that I love.
So I practice the steps needed to be light on my feet, able to flex and move with changes that are as yet unknown. Strengthened by relationships of trust and joy I prepare by re-learning old skills, writing letters, soaking beans, searching the encyclopedia, darning socks, embroidering a little name, sowing seeds. It is not surprising that the old skills take time, time that is readily available when waiting.
The hour that I had to put my newly purchased plants in the ground featured a pretty intense rainstorm followed quickly by nightfall. And then my work week began. The plants are sitting on the back porch now waiting for me. I think I will write a letter.

No comments:

Post a Comment