December 27: Wake
The etymology of the word wait, as it turns out, in Old English, is wake.
Ironic, since I am up at 1 a.m. awake when I ought to be sleeping, waiting for--what?
For things I can't control that may or may not happen tomorrow. Which, quite honestly, is what we are always doing when we are waiting--trying to gain control.
Unless we learn to surrender. Unless we wake up enough to wait wakefully--not full of worry, but full of an empty openness.
The Germanic etymology: to stay put, guard, watch.
We must be on guard as to our motivations, our mind and heart-spaces and what they tell us or don't tell us. We must be willing to look with true curiosity at our thoughts and feelings.
Yes, after these many days of writing, this theme keeps reemerging, but my life has to remind me again and again because it's a lesson that is hard to learn.
We can wait with worry or anxiety or excitement, or we can wait with true openness, true willingness to surrender to what is, rather than try to control what might have been or what could be.
We can see waiting as a battle between what we can and can't control or as a way of connecting with who we are capable of being--our best selves.
Which is not to say we shouldn't act with justice and deep love and work for change, but that we should do so with an honest, open, clear wakefulness, not a blind rage or fear.
And so, at 1 a.m., I shift my waiting to wakefulness--not insomnia, but a willingness to see clearly, to be present, to hold vigil, to be whole in my waiting.
Ironic, since I am up at 1 a.m. awake when I ought to be sleeping, waiting for--what?
For things I can't control that may or may not happen tomorrow. Which, quite honestly, is what we are always doing when we are waiting--trying to gain control.
Unless we learn to surrender. Unless we wake up enough to wait wakefully--not full of worry, but full of an empty openness.
The Germanic etymology: to stay put, guard, watch.
We must be on guard as to our motivations, our mind and heart-spaces and what they tell us or don't tell us. We must be willing to look with true curiosity at our thoughts and feelings.
Yes, after these many days of writing, this theme keeps reemerging, but my life has to remind me again and again because it's a lesson that is hard to learn.
We can wait with worry or anxiety or excitement, or we can wait with true openness, true willingness to surrender to what is, rather than try to control what might have been or what could be.
We can see waiting as a battle between what we can and can't control or as a way of connecting with who we are capable of being--our best selves.
Which is not to say we shouldn't act with justice and deep love and work for change, but that we should do so with an honest, open, clear wakefulness, not a blind rage or fear.
And so, at 1 a.m., I shift my waiting to wakefulness--not insomnia, but a willingness to see clearly, to be present, to hold vigil, to be whole in my waiting.
Comments