“Honor the space between no longer and not yet”

~Nancy Levin

 

Spring in the Northeast has been what seems like many false starts or grand leaps to summer like days. One day it is warm and sunny and you feel like we have turned the corner, only to wake up the next day to a gray, cold and rainy day. Not quite yet is the message. Or we fast forward to warm, humid days, where we feel like we completely missed spring only to be quickly brought back to chilly days. Yet another not yet.

For many the “not yet” space in their lives can be frustrating, challenging and uncomfortable—almost feeling like a cruel test of the Universe. Many times in these “not yet” or seasons of wait there are false starts or tempting promises that give us the impression that the wait is over and momentum in a new space will begin; or there are opportunities presented to us that are undefined, unclear and amorphous and we feel that we are waiting for things to align or gel. It does test one’s resolve. It is hard to sit in silence of the unwritten story of our lives and find comfort in this space.  

Even with intense intention, sometimes we are put in a season of wait for longer than we anticipated or want. Even with trying to make things happen, we have to wait, not even knowing what we are waiting for. In this state it is easy to lose sight of how important emptiness or space is to the creative process of our ascension and change—the potential of an empty canvas, a blank page or the pause in a musical composition.

In the not yet we can find ourselves restless and bored, and just want it to be over or at least for the Universe to give us a sign of what is after the wait—a peek into the next season.  We question why is nothing happening or getting off the ground. But in this not yet state, there is much transformation going on.

The transformation for some is within themselves—providing a season where they recreate themselves. For others, they are put in a holding pattern until the space to which they will go to make an impact or create is ready. In short, the people and circumstances they will encounter and lead have not transformed to a working or functioning ecosystem where they can make significant, radical change.

Not yet is a place of discomfort. The fine edges it presents—like between light and dark or land and sea—can give rise to impatience with ourselves or annoyance with the pieces of the Universe that have not evolved to where they are ready for us. But we must hold onto the hope and knowledge that the emergence from the wait will be rich.