In a world where time is something that no longer feels sacred and everything we do has a potential "should" in front of it, this worldwide crisis has impacted us in ways we never imagined.
There is a feeling of urgency to pivot and ride these huge waves as they keep coming, keep crashing in.
Again. Again. And again.
Pivot. Pivot. Pivot.
Should. Should. Should.
Now. Now. Now.
What if the waves are not meant to be ridden?
What if by riding the waves we are, in some way, delaying the inevitable? What if our NEED to ride the waves is a version of denial, of avoidance?
I am not saying we allow the waves to dominate us.
I am wondering whether we need to stop using the waves as a vehicle for speed. For momentum. For running away. For an illusion of control.
What if we chose to stop riding, and could instead choose a sort of stillness. Stillness amongst the unrelenting ferocity.
This to me, feels like a glue-y slowness, an experience of wading through sludgy mud, not really making much headway. It feels exhausting.
Maybe headway is not supposed to be made. Maybe the way we think of headway is in linear terms.
Perhaps there is nothing linear about this slowness.
Maybe if we paid a different sort of attention to the waves as they built and crashed around us; really watched the waves, wanting to understand them, sat IN the waves, really wanting to feel them, and became silent with the waves, truly wanting to hear them.
What if we chose to listen to the waves?
Perhaps there is a story within their chaotic discombobulation.
A story that needs time and space and a different way of listening in order to be heard.
Comments