WAITING ...

Advent  -  that season in the Christian church's calendar marking the four weeks of waiting and preparation before the birth of the infant Jesus  - coincides in the southern hemisphere with the start of the monarch butterfly's active cycle. It's a telling parallel - a visible reminder of the value of waiting in a world that has become so desperately impatient.

I went to town today to do some banking ... there were lots of people queuing - a few waiting with good humour but most others with impatient looks and much shuffling of papers or exasperated sighs. When my transaction had been completed, I walked to the stairs taking me back to my car, and saw a young father, toddler at hand, walking slowly down the stairs. Waiting for the little one to navigate each step, he patiently encouraged his child's tentative progress without a hint of annoyance or rushing. No wonder the little boy was full of smiles when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Waiting is not popular in our wild western world - we are hurry sick - we want everything 'now' -  smart phones to connect us instantly with anyone, anywhere; we expect immediate aid when disaster strikes, or central or local government is blamed; we speak more quickly and eat 'fast food', get involved in 'road rage' and seek high speed air or train travel; and, ironically, we marvel at how quickly the months are passing, as if somehow time has changed its pace and we have no say in the matter.

Is it surprising then that, coupled with our fast-paced life and impatience with anything that stops us doing what we want to do as soon as we want to do it, we are seeing a decrease in mental health and overall well-being. Are we so out of touch with the natural rhythms of creation that we fail to see the virtue of waiting?

And is it surprising that a 'push-back' is emerging - people opting for 'slow food' and a quieter lifestyle, yearning for simplicity and putting quality time into building relationships with others, with themselves, with the land and environment, and for many, with something or someone they might consider 'sacred'?

So it's back to the monarch butterflies - a newly-hatched monarch butterfly emerges from its cocoon wet and wrinkly. It can take hours for the wings to dry, gently unfurl, plump up and gather strength ready for the miracle of flight. If we try to hurry this waiting process by 'helping' the butterfly untangle itself, irreparable harm is done - and all that time in the cocoon will come to
nothing but damage and death.

Each year in the season of Advent we are reminded of the value of waiting, of anticipating, of letting ourselves hope and yearn and look forward. And for those who follow the Way of Christ, waiting brings into sharper focus the coming of God into the world in a form we can all embrace - a tiny child  - Jesus -  through whom the vulnerability and power of  Love could be expressed in the context of an ordinary human life  - just like yours and mine.

That's worth waiting for!

Simplicity

We went to a 'silent auction' yesterday.

For those of you who cannot imagine how an auction can function without someone with a gavel, a loud voice, several spotters for crowd bids, several others to monitor online hopefuls and a gaggle of
potential purchasers waiting for their defining moment, let me assure you that it can and does work, just differently.

The hall was set up with a range of desirable items each with its own list on which bidders could write their offer. Over the next couple of hours,  we milled around, caught up with friends, had cups of tea and delicious cake and periodically checked to see if someone else had bid more than we had on our items of desire. At the end of the allotted viewing time, the bids were collated and the person with the top bid for each item was notified - in person if present and by phone / text if not. Simple.

JFK's rocking chair 

I sat - several times - in a vintage wooden rocking chair a bit like the one pictured - testing the angle between seat and back,the degree of rock, and whether my feet could touch the floor - a perennial problem as I am quite short.
I remembered my first and only rocking chair - used over thirty years ago when I was nursing my son.
Happy memories of night feeds and snuggling, of that distinctive milky baby smell; memories too of the anxieties and not knowing and the joys of emerging motherhood.

My partner in crime set his eyes on a coal scuttle and fire-tools, even though we already had both at home. There was a discussion.

We agreed to bid on a picnic basket, an evening bag in better condition than the one I had at home, some plants, a vintage car model piggy bank, an uninhabited cat basket with cloth mouse, and a few other odds and ends - none of which we needed- but not the rocking chair. Not this time.

With house already cluttered we'd actually donated stuff to the auction as part of our 'move it on policy' so what were we doing, subverting our own strategy???

Well it was just fun - simple, convivial  fund-raising fun and we enjoyed it.

For a couple of hours we could leave behind the horrors of terrorism destroying lives and tormenting our screens; we could briefly forget about elections, politics, natural disasters, death and dying, house affordability, and our children's well-being; we could escape the routines of our live, lived largely within the confines of our home; and we could shelve life decisions such as wills and whether  - or when  - to move as we and our house grow more decrepit with age.

We could just take a break from it all ... just for a little while.

And when the end of the auction came and we found ourselves with things we didn't need, we just smiled at each other, and paid the money to the good cause. It was worth it.