Advent, Day 10: This, Too, An Advent

Day 10 of this year’s Advent series. Yesterday’s piece was about seeing; today we consider “life events.” 

This, Too, An Advent

This, too, an Advent:
The clotted blood, tired heart or
Time-turned soul.

Light this candle: change to bear,
As change comes yet again and –
Again: it is a steady flame.

This, too, your Advent:
Where hearts break toward a different song

Or sing again – but

Not yet.

Both quick and dead,
Light this flame.

It burns true, both sides the door that love cuts

Through the world. 

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The remarkable thing about “question mark spaces” in the year is that they will arrive, whether or not you are ready for them. All you are required to do is remain breathing. 

And of course, this is also true for… life events. 

I say “life events” (that pseudo-euphemistic Millennial-coded marketing term) but what I really mean is…you know, the sort of thing that could actually, also be called: life-but-we-really-hope-not-ours events. 

Those little sections of awareness that both rivet and fractalize your attentions into:

The sensation of living chunks of several divergent lives at the same time or 
The sensation of living chunks of someone else’s life at a very specific narrowing time or
The sensation of please-don’t-let-this-be-my-life or
Please don’t let this be someone’s life any more – or 

Really, just “please.” 

Sometimes there’s nothing to even ask for, at least as far as “use your words” is concerned. 

In the interest of not using my words, then, allow me the cover of a quote, from Barbara Brown Taylor’s An Altar in the World: 

“I have to be careful here, or I will sound like one of Job’s pious friends. No one who is not in pain is allowed to give advice to someone who is. The only reliable wisdom about pain comes from the mouths of those who suffer it, which is why it is so important to listen to them. That way, when our turn comes, the rest of us will not be clueless. We will recognize at least some of the territory and remember what those who went before us told us about what comes next.” 

I try very hard to remember these words whenever I can. There is only one thing I quietly add to them, within my own head: although “what comes next” is certainly a great part of all this, it’s the “what comes now” that really can’t be skipped.

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Citations

Taylor, Barbara Brown. An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith. HarperOne, 2009.

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