Well, I went silent again. Unintentionally. Sorry about that. It’s not that I didn’t have something to write about. Anyone who knows me personally know a couple of issues have kept me busy, but now it’s time to deal with the aftermath, shift into the next ‘event’. It’s interesting to note that it is in the transitions between times that seem the longest. At least it is to me. Think about it. (The Mouse helped me figure a lot of this out)
When is it ‘Christmas Time’? Seriously- I mean, here we are in June and Christmas (Unless you are Aunty Mame) is probably one of the furthest things from your minds. But sometime around October – November (Unless you’re in retail then it may be around January.. or December 26) you start thinking about and making plans for Christmas (substitute your own non-secular holiday or event if you wish[and if you got that, +5 points to your respective houses]). And as soon as you start making those ‘plans’ you have to wait. And the closer you get, the longer the wait seems to be. Who among you HAVEN’T been chomping at the bit that night before, knowing that in just a few short minutes (hours, days, weeks, months, SECONDS for Pete’s sake!!!) it’ll be time for… and then, in a flash it’s done, over, fine (fēnā-musical term meaning finished, the end – esoteric, I know, but c’est la vie ). No, The Mouse hasn’t been asking about when it will be Christmas, specifically. Yet. (Murphy, can you hear me?) But her conception of time has a fluidity that only children and Zen masters seem to understand. She is still trying to figure out what term fits exactly where and her idea of the clock isn’t the hands or the numbers (yes, she will learn analog as well as digital time). She is more interested in the pendulum and why it wasn’t going back and forth at the moment and if she could touch it to help it go back and forth.
The Mouse will, however, tell me that it has been ages and ages since we last read Beauty & the Beast, or Cinderella, or whatever story we read the night before… and the day before that… and at nap time today… Or that “Years ago, when I was a little girl, my sister, Daphne had a party and the dogs liked the cheese there and I didn’t eat it because it was blue.” or “Yesterday, when I was born, did you and Momma want a puppy?”
In her world there is a permanence in that everything has always been just as it is (“For Ages and Ages, Dad!”) and a newness that it has never been exactly like this way before (“Wow… Just now? When did that happen!”). And until we slip into the Great Swiss Con and start living our lives via ‘time’, we are all like that. Which is why the transitions from condition to condition take so long, now. We get so wrapped up in waiting for something to happen (either anticipated or not), that the moments drag on till infinity and then are gone and done.
The shifts in my world revolve (naturally) around school. Waiting for it to start and waiting for it to end on a daily, quarterly and yearly basis. When the next break starts and when it is over. Waiting for the rehearsals and then for the show and then the next thing. The transitions between states are the periods of waiting, the periods of anticipation for something that is not yet, but soon(never) will be. And it isn’t just the waiting, but the actual ‘shift’ in the world. And getting ‘acclimated’ to the newness of the new moment. Because it certainly sin’t anything like what I planned or thought or hoped. It’s (immensely/slightly/exactly/nothing) (different/better/worse/same/opposite) [go ahead and pick your combination of words] than anything I could have ever imagined. And there-in lies the conundrum.
We all play prognosticator and then base our lives around the constant predictions of what’s going to happen. And we are always wrong. And yet we keep playing the game. Be it biological imperative or sociological conditioning, we keep trying to predict our future (or demise). But I think the problem is not that we do this, but that we get so wrapped up in the waiting that it becomes the end all be all rather than the transition moments in which we could simply be. And by dealing with the moment as it is rather than what we thought it would be, perhaps we could progress to the next moment with more grace and deal with this absolute unknown with the fluidity of a child. Or a Zen master. Because Ages and Ages ago, just yesterday…