Be Still and Wait

"I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for 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 are all in the waiting. 

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: 

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing." 

~T.S. Eliot 

Happening upon this quote by T.S. Eliot, I realize that these lines describe where I am in life better than I have been able to lately. Yes, they are taken out of context and I honestly have not read the rest of the (very long) poem that goes with them, but I'd like to just focus on this passage and (try to) explain what I mean. 

"I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing;"

First of all, what does it mean to "be still"? I couldn't tell you! Perhaps it is from lack of trying, but I find I have a very difficult time letting myself truly quiet down and be still; to enjoy silence and allow my thoughts to wander without reaching to take a picture or read something to distract me from my own reality. Perhaps this is why I have not been productive in my spare time, since I don't know how to let myself have creative ideas and really focus on any sewing projects or writing or even entering into conversation with other people. Hard to express my thoughts when I haven't exactly been letting myself think! 

But perhaps you are wondering why I am connecting with the "wait without hope..." part of that line. It's not that I don't have hope - indeed, I believe that if we have not hope we are sadly lost, since that is a crucial part of what keeps us going through the drudgery of daily life. But hope in what exactly? It's hard not to start making plans and want specific things to happen. To paint a picture of my ideal life and become disappointed when it doesn't appear. Isn't this a recipe for missing what is in my life, though? If I'm so focused on looking for what I want to find, it's like when I can't see what's waiting there on the table as I scrabble around in the cupboard. So perhaps it would be better if, while I have hope that good things are coming, I try to keep more of an open mind and be ready to accept the opportunities that do present themselves. 

"wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing;"

Okay, honesty here. As a single person making her seemingly insignificant way in the world, I sometimes wonder if I'll always be alone. Oh sure, love can show itself in many ways (family, cat, community, kindness from a stranger, etc.) But I'm going to make this about relationships of the romantic variety. I am not exactly the most approachable person in the world: I'm shy in new situations, I take a LONG time to open up to people (even my closest friends still have to pry my true feelings out of me with a tweezers and a crescent wrench and even then they come out somewhat scratched and incomplete), and I happen to be incredibly comfortable being by myself. However, there is still that other side of my brain that knows having someone in my life would be a wonderful thing. Forcing it, though, cannot end well and I know from experience that it's better to be alone than with the wrong person. 

"there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting."

Exactly! 

"Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:" 

Methinks perhaps I'm disobeying this line by writing this extremely personal post. Yet, didn't I already say I have been unable to think? At some point the waiting has to end, the thoughts have to begin, and the hope and love and faith all need to work together in the present moment to show me what my life needs to be! I can wait, but patience is not always my strongest suit. 

"So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing."

The meaning of this line is unclear to me. Perhaps if I read the whole poem it would make more sense. I will say that finding joys in the waiting has made this period of my life one of the happiest yet. There have been opportunities that I have been so blessed with, from being involved in the community in what small ways I can be, to thriving in my little home, taking care of my cat and learning how to live responsibly (okay, still a lot to learn!). My friendships have grown, my reading list is actually getting some checkmarks, and for the most part I feel at peace with where I am. 

Some days I just wonder what will be next, and when the real dancing will begin. 

Swing Your Partner!

~*~*~*~

The breeze wafts through the open window, brushing across her cheek with a cool kiss before drifting out the open door, ever out of reach. With a slight sigh, she turns to face the room, thankful for that brief moment of relief from the warmth of a small room filled with a crush of dancers, whirling to and fro as the caller crows out commands over the sound of the soaring fiddle. "Swing your partner! Dosey-do!" he might cry, and by some spell of understanding, the squares of four couples are quick to obey, keeping time with the music or rushing to correct their mistakes. Holding out her left hand, the young woman swings round with her corner-partner before returning to her main partner for a promenade. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and she looks forward to a cool drink of water after this energetic exercise. Glancing at her partner, she wonders for a moment what his name is and where he's from, but quickly dismisses the thought. It doesn't matter who these people are; all that matters is the dance, becoming a team with a group of strangers to create intricate patterns and spins and laughter. Oh, they are not all strange - there is her friend waiting by the wall, holding her niece up to "dance" on her lap as they watch the swirling room. There is the band, mostly familiar faces, looking rather bored as they repeat the same stanza over and over for the dancers to keep time to. Their fingers will be sore, she thinks, after picking away at the guitar, banjo, violin, and upright bass all evening. More friends dance in a second square, an unknown elderly couple makes a vivacious effort to keep up, some young girls struggle to separate right from left, and the young men look about nervously from beneath their eyebrows. One or two of the shy girls loiter in the doorway, a look of longing and stubborn acceptance mingling in their eyes as they watch the merriment. A set of parents rush to keep track of their young children, keeping them out from under the high-stepping boots. A group of new-comers laughs uproariously at their failing attempts to follow directions, slowly catching on to the square dance terms. The breeze flutters through again, this time rustling her skirt as she whirls around, holding hands in the great circle. Suddenly the small circle joins with the others, becoming one long line of people led by the caller, weaving into a swirl that crowds to the center then loops out again, a maze of people sashaying and laughing and pulling to keep up, until the caller jumps in to lead them out, unraveling the maze as all raise their hands with a shout. The fiddler locks eyes with the guitarist, giving a slight nod before ending the song with a flourish. There is applause, a mad rush for the water coolers, some chatter and introductions. The young woman smilingly observes the scene for a moment before stepping outside, seeking that teasing breath of air.

~*~*~*~

Such was the scene I enjoyed last evening, attending a "barn dance", with a live band, a caller to instruct the dances, and an old-fashioned school house with a long room perfect for dancing in. It was lively, rural, and a wonderful opportunity for people-watching, even while kicking up my heels and dancing!

"I'm beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things in life which are the real ones after all." ~Laura Ingalls Wilder 

My Human is Crazy

You have probably heard of me.

I can only assume my human talks about me all the time, considering I am the best thing that has ever happened to her, but she does not truly understand my feelings. 

No one does. 

Which is why I have taken over the blog for the day, to express some of my keen observations. 

Let me outline my ideal day: 

3AM: I like to get up and prowl around the house, checking all corners, closets, and windows for potential threats. One can never be too cautious. 

4AM: Having secured the perimeter, it is time to chase the toys my human has left out for me. Clearly they require constant reminders of my superior status. My human would tell you this is an exercise regime, but my voluptuous figure requires no such maintenance.  

5AM: As the dawn begins to lighten the sky, I like to watch the birds. Stupid things. I enjoy taunting them. 

6AM: Typically my human is still asleep. How she sleeps through the night is a mystery to me, but I take it upon myself to check that she is still alive by working through my vocal scales, making as much noise as I possibly can. 

Sometimes she responds, and it entertains me greatly to see her stomp about to see if I need something before returning to bed. 

I never do. 

7AM: By now I'm getting rather tired - I've been up for hours, after all - so it's time for my morning nap. 

8AM: Make sure my human takes care of my room - I do so hate to have it messy - and wait for her to remember to entertain me. Sometimes she forgets, so I just go back to sleep. 

Once my human goes to work, I do what I like. However, I like to keep my activities a secret from my human and, since she may see this, I will not be divulging that classified information at this time. 

4PM: By now if my human hasn't returned I begin to feel some concern. It is a big world out there and I am not convinced she can take care of herself without me. I wait for footsteps in the hall until she comes in, ready to call in backup if necessary. 

Of course it would not do to let her be aware of my worries, so I let her believe I simply missed her. I do somewhat enjoy when she scoops me up for a hug, but I draw the line at rocking me like a child. The indignity of it! 

The evening passes swiftly, and I alternate napping and chasing that silly pompom that lays there mocking me. 

7PM: My human knows I like to sit quietly by now. Lately she has been taking off in the evenings again, off to some rehearsal or other. Does she not care about the danger? It is aggravating to see someone behaving to ineptly. I try to explain my views to her, but I might as well be speaking dog for all she listens to me. 

9PM: Finally she is back. Now I can sit on her lap - I find some pleasure in this particular location, as I can absorb some warmth. Often my human tries to stroke my hair, though, and I find this annoying. 

Does no one respect personal boundaries anymore? 

11PM: Once my human goes to bed, sometimes I have had enough of her presence and I stay in the living room. Other nights, when she has behaved well, I jump up and curl up by her side. This might be my favorite, as I can really keep an eye on my human through the night. It is safer that way. 

Things that annoy me: touching, static, strange noises, anyone singing (especially my human), loud beeping, anything canine in nature, rambunctious children, people taking my chair...I could go on. But no one really cares what irritates me, so I will not bother to continue. 

Why am I writing all this down? My reasons are beyond your comprehension, human. Do not question my motives again. 

With angst and feline suavity, 

Bootsy