There is a space between things sometimes that is just empty of thought and content. There is the time a caterpillar spends in its chrysalis as a sort of goo or intelligent soup that is no longer caterpillar but not yet butterfly.
There is a time when someone we love takes a long and painful time to die or a time just after a death or ending when in exhaustion we feel nothing. On a smaller scale there is my experience of having had my article rejected by the peer reviewers (quite justifiably). I am caught up with no energy or inspiration, an absence of advice what to do next but all this work I have done and my disinclination to be “finished”.
That is a creative space (the butterfly is proof of this as is the shoot that sprouts when you bury the seed. Cliches maybe, but also true symbols of the pause between being called and our capacity to respond.
Xavier Rudd perhaps sums it up more beautifully than I can: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pD2Xhzv_8-4
So this Holy Saturday, I think I hear the voice of Holy Wisdom (or my imagination) in the space between Good Friday (death) and whatever potential Easter will bring.
“Patience please” she says like Xavier Rudd, “I am creating a dream.” Hang in for the dream then maybe?