Irony Becomes Her

A lady in waiting

The other day I washed a pair of socks by hand and laid them out to dry. Then I mixed up a batch of bar cookies and left them to set. Then I combined ingredients for crumpet batter and left it to rise.

Using a dryer might have shrunk the socks; the cookies wouldn't have benefited from watching, shaking or poking; the yeast was doing just what it was intended to do; none had the least need for my further interference.

Some of my readers may be surprised that I, who pride myself on not writing inane "today I did this and that" blog posts, should begin as I just did. And some have already beaten me to the point I'm trying to make:

In many cases, our work is to wait.

It isn't like I did nothing. I washed the socks; I mixed up the cookies and crumpets. But there wasn't a single bloomin' thing I could have done to get my socks, cookies and crumpets all the way to the desired state. They would get there via a clandestine process in which I had no part. The best way to get 'er done was to wait.

It struck me that this is often the case. I want to fix things, to hurry them along, to shape them into the right form and make them perfect. What they need is for me to take my grubby hands off and allow change to take place on a momentarily imperceptible level. Meanwhile, I can get on with other things to which my involvement will actually bring progress -- doing the dishes, perhaps, or writing an overdue note to a friend.

Each time my mom and dad waited for the next doctor appointment in Dad's cancer treatment, it was hard for us not to be doing something actively to fight it. But Dad's work was in taking time, rest and nutrition for his body to recover. Mom's was to juggle paperwork and be ready for something to happen, and mine -- well, mine was to have a life that they'd like to hear about while they waited.

Take comfort, my friends; there is no shame in playing a waiting role if it's the appropriate one for the moment. You'll be able to tell when it's time to fold those socks.

posted by Lynn @ 11:23 AM