In some cultures, a crow is considered a symbol of wisdom. A crow may have helped the writer of Ecclesiastes formulate this chapter. At least, crows often inspire a blog theme for me. So for the past few days I’ve been watching crows at our campsite. These “wise” crows were pretty wary, staying away from places where they could see people. But the minute we were out of sight, they swooped down, pecked a hole in our garbage bag, and were feasting on scraps. There’s a time to stay out of the way, and a time to jump right in and do your thing, apparently. Should I blog about that? Nah.
When we shooed them away, they made a real racket, indignantly letting us know that we were interfering in their good luck. But later, a crow landed on a picnic table at an empty campsite nearby. She seemed to be quite content to sit there quietly, checki6ng out the neighbourhood. There’s a time to squawk, and there’s a time to be silent.
Hmm. Now there’s a topic with possibilities. If you are a regular follower of CrowDayOne, you may have noticed that lately, the crow has been pretty quiet.
There is a time for everything: a time to speak, and a time to listen. And right now, I’m finding myself doing a lot less squawking, and much more listening.
These past 4 years of writing this blog – starting with my 65th birthday – have been such a pleasure. For a while, I was just bursting with discoveries I wanted to share with you, and it was so gratifying to have many of you tell me, “Really? That happened to you, too? You’re thinking about that, too?” Apparently, many of us are living parallel lives, wondering about the same things, pondering the mysteries of life and the spirit, experiencing the same frailties and frustrations. Whether we are younger or older, men or women, dedicated believers or dedicated searchers, we have so much more in common with each other than we perhaps knew. Writing the blog has been an eye-opening experience for me, learning about our interconnectedness. It’s been the best lesson ever!
But lately, as I’m fast approaching my 69th birthday – I’ve found I haven’t got so much to say. The older you get, I’ve found, the less you know. It’s a very humbling experience. So, as the wise campsite crow showed me, it must be time to listen.
Listening is not just using your ears, I find. You can listen in so many ways. Currently the RS and I are camping along the banks of the mighty Fraser River, with lots of lovely walking trails. So we are “listening” to nature with all of our senses: sight, smell, touch, and taste as well as with our ears. The listening brings us peace and rest.
And we are listening with our hearts as we attend a play and a concert that feature the three grandgirls who live here. How beautiful children are, and how much hope they give us for the future.
|pardon me while I brag a little: Geneva played Charlotte in Charlotte's Web at her school. Here she is posing with her friend Wilbur. Some spider, some pig!|
|Aerin was "some cow!" in the same production.|
|And Karina sang her heat out with the Pacific Mennonite Children's Choir Concert. So beautiful!|
I feel the same way as I experience anxiety for our world, for our nations, for the environment, for the differences that separate people and make enemies of those who are, after all, not so different from us, who have the same hopes and dreams. What to say about that? My listening involves storing these realities in my mind and heart, processing them, waiting until I know it’s time to squawk, know just what words to squawk as well.
I’m finding that this time of listening is not giving me many answers, many formulas to make it all better, not many nuggets of wisdom to pass on to you. But the listening is an experience that is also enriching and a blessing in itself.
Above all, as I commit myself to this time of listening, my spirit listens for the voice of my Creator, the source of all creation and creativity. I listen, waiting to hear and feel that little thrill of excitement that tells me, “This! Yes, this is something you need to share.”
And when that happens, the crow will squawk again. Maybe sooner, maybe later. After all, there is a time for everything.