I have wakened, as I do every morning, to the blissful sounds of a quiet house. Of a coffee pot gurgling. A fridge humming. A clock ticking. In this pre-dawn deliciousness, I feel poised on the brink of something…
…days off from the norm
…a barrage of emotions which accompany being with lots of family
…creative hopes & dreams.
This “brink of something” is a familiar place for me. Don’t I experience this at least once, no five, even ten times in any given week? Don’t I find myself, as it were, perched at the edge of a glorious view, on tippy toes, arms outstretched, ready to leap and fly?
I think this is the truest index of my real situation. This “brink of something” is what gives me the delight, joy, excitement and wonder in my life. Yet it is also the culprit for much confusion, inner turmoil, even sadness and downheartedness. I often waken with the dindle and twitter of that ready-to-fly feeling…and then the day gets rolling and I’m left scratching my head wondering –
Is this it? Was this the grand landscape into which I jumped?
The view from where I land each day isn’t so exciting or glamorous. And I haven’t landed in that “something” I thought I was in line for. By day’s end it all feels like the same mish-mosh of emotions, sad news from a world of woe, unrequited creative plans and dreams, weariness from slogging it out in the highways and byways of living.
Yet I awaken the next morning and there it is again… the desire to put on my jumpsuit and wings.
I could even go so far as to say that this has been my experience for all of my 53 years. Give or take a few mornings where grief and difficulty, or just plain ole monotony, have taken the wind out of my wings completely, I can see that this is the near daily ebb and flow of my life. To begin each day with such an exquisite hope, such a childlike desire to don my cape and wage the war of life with my paint brush, needles and wool…this is a brink I hope I always waken to.
The difficulty however is this — how does one live “on the brink” day in and day out? How do we, despite what life holds for us moment by moment, maintain an attitude of hope and expectation through it all? I write this not to offer a step-by-step how-to. Although in just writing those words, I can see the hint of a path through.
Here, poised on the brink of this holiday season of Thanksgiving and then Christmas , my wings are more glittery than my average everyday wings. Woven with tinsel, rimmed in twinkly lights, they are fluttering with the anticipation of a kid on Christmas Eve. Yet 53 years has thankfully taught me a thing or two.
The real joy and delight of this season is not found in tinsel or lights (although I love festooning my home with them!) It is found in turning around from the edge of an imagined stunning vista, to view my life. The work I have daily, is to bring that dindle and twitter of anticipation to bear in my every day world. To stand on tip-toes with arms outstretched and to lean into whatever the day brings. My work each day is to walk step by step into it , wings unfurled, with the full knowledge of what this season is all about —
Gratitude that I am not alone for the Christ child is coming and has come into our world. Though I will one day stand on the brink of that heavenly realm, today’s work is thanksgiving for the view I have right here in my life.
May each of us embrace the now-and-not-yet-ness of this season. May we not lose heart in daring to stand tippy-toed on the brink of our days, anticipating our wings taking flight in all our joys AND in our difficulties and sorrows. May we brandish whatever swords of love we have been given, be they pens, paintbrushes, voices, instruments, yarn, clay or fabric.
And remember… you are not alone! I am on the brink here too and the Christ Child has paved the path before us, while also walking hand in hand , step by step, Emmanuel, with us.
4 thoughts on “The Brink of Something”
Love living on the brink with you!
Jennifer I connect again so closely with what you so beautifully put into words. What word comes to me in this feeling of “…on the brink…” almost daily is potential. The potential of things delights me so. And then at the end of a day or at a time of reflection I think of all the unrealized potential. That’s where I’m at in prayer now (as in a season, not the moment). I used to feel a responsibility to that potential and now He is helping me see that it’s not all on my shoulders. And that it isn’t necessarily sad when the potential is unrealized. But that I can see the beauty in potential to start with is something I can share deeply with Him. So much more to say of course, but too hard in a little space of a blog and a little space of time.
Oh Jill…I apologize for not seeing this sooner! Or rather, I wish I had seen it sooner, as it expresses so well something I myself am experiencing too! “Unrealized Potential”…wow, that is it. I don’t know if it is my age or what, but I find myself with a bit of “grief” over all the unrealized potentials of my creative loves and desires. As you say “I used to feel a responsibility to the potential” and I struggle to solidly know that it is not on my shoulders. How beautifully worded! I do think we would have much to share and mutually encourage one another if we could sit down and have tea together some day! I wish you and your lovely family a marvelous Christmas celebrating our Savior’s birth! Love, Jennifer