Rushing and waiting

“It might seem to you that living in the woods on a riverbank would remove you from the modern world. But not if the river is navigable, as ours is. On pretty weekends in the summer, this riverbank is the very verge of the modern world. It is a seat in the front row, you might say. On those weekends, the river is disquieted from morning to night by people resting from their work.

This resting involves traveling at great speed, first on the road and then on the river. The people are in an emergency to relax. They long for the peace and quiet of the great outdoors. Their eyes are hungry for the scenes of nature. They go very fast in their boats. They stir the river like a spoon in a cup of coffee. They play their radios loud enough to hear above the noise of their motors. They look neither left nor right. They don't slow down for - or maybe even see - an old man in a rowboat raising his lines...

I watch and I wonder and I think. I think of the old slavery, and of the way The Economy has now improved upon it. The new slavery has improved upon the old by giving the new slaves the illusion that they are free. The Economy does not take people's freedom by force, which would be against its principles, for it is very humane. It buys their freedom, pays for it, and then persuades its money back again with shoddy goods and the promise of freedom.”

                                                                                      Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

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happy dog roars through the house

prancing, rushing, whining

so much urgency

to be on his way

slipping along the road

roaring through the snow

nose down

in an orgy of smells and textures

rushing from one stick to another

ecstasy

one twisted piece of juniper barely tasted

before he is on to the next morsel

“I watch and I wonder and I think”

as I sit here on the 2^nd day of Christmas

about the way we roar through life

we plunge into fall, scattering summer before us

as a the trees scatter their leaves

and barely breathing we roll through fall

from Halloween, to Thanksgiving

and into Advent

as season of waiting and reflection

which is sadly lost in the urgency

until some of us finally stagger exhausted into

Christmas Eve Services, where we take as desperate gasp of spirituality

And then return to the chaos of Christmas Day…

But now here we are

The day after the day

And the days of Christmas stretch before us

Pleading with us

Stop

Breathe

Think

Take a moment to find yourself again

And place your feet firmly on the earth

Mountain pose

Stop Breathe Think

Of things mundane and things deep

Stretch wide your hands, your arms your heart

And let the faint rays of winter light

Creep into the crevices

And dark spots

Stop, Breathe Think

Then journey on gently

Like the Magi

An epiphany awaits