Wait for It—Actively, yet Patiently

Readers of this newsletter know that my wife and I journeyed this fall to Israel and Jordan to visit the land that so many (us included) view as holy.  Leading Toward, Not Fleeing From

My wife and I talked in advance about what to do about a pin that I’ve worn religiously since March.  The pin has a diameter of about an inch which makes it almost exactly the size of a US quarter.  It is the blue and yellow of the flag of the Ukraine and has the national symbol of the Ukraine embossed on it—a trident of design dating back to the eleventh century.  The pin is hard to miss.

Long ago, but not eleventh century long ago, I visited the then Soviet Union, including the Ukraine.  I ate Chicken Kyiv in Kyiv and saw first-hand what a breadbasket the country was (is)—for Americans, think Southern Illinois or Iowa.  Incredible.  I also felt the strength of a people uneasily filed under the Soviet Union.

Back to the pin.

The Middle East contains, shall we say, a wide-ranging set of views regarding the war in the Ukraine. A bit concerned, I nevertheless ended up wearing the pin throughout our trip, with my wife’s concurrence.

We arrived in Tel Aviv several days before our tour was to launch from Jerusalem.  We planned to work through jet lag and, decidedly more importantly, to visit a dear friend of mine.  That first afternoon, I set out to sit by the hotel pool, look at the beach it overlooked, read, and nap--some afternoons are easier than others! I stopped at the pool gate to check in and to get my bearings.  Immediately, a young man, no older than his early 20s, came up to me, pointed to my pin and said,

          “I’m Ukrainian.  Thank you for your support.”

I responded, “It’s such a small thing to do in support of what you and your people are doing, but you are most welcome.”
We’d just finished our brief exchange when a man, perhaps in his mid to late 40s (i.e., old enough to have fathered the Ukrainian), took a step into the conversational ‘space’.  Shaved head and well-muscled, he spoke with an easily identifiable accent, saying simply and demonstratively:

          “I am Russian.”  He fixed his gaze on me.

I turned slightly in order to face him full on.  My scattered contact with Russians over the decades led me to do so and to wait.  Maybe it’s language.  Maybe culture.  Maybe historic Russian:American relations.  Maybe all of that, but I’ve learned that it’s often advisable to wait quietly, solidly, and patiently when beginning a conversation with Russians, to slowly enter the conversation and to afford time and conversational space for whatever might unfold to unfold.

          He looked squarely at me, pausing.  I had no idea what might come next although I was a bit apprehensive, modestly optimistic but a bit apprehensive.  He studied me for a moment longer before offering, “I burned my passport 3 months ago.  I do not go back until THAT man is gone.”

          The young Ukrainian stood off to the side, observing silently.

          I said simply and obviously to the Russian, “That’s a hard thing to do.”

          He looked away briefly as he acknowledged, “Yes, it is”.  He refocused his gaze on me.  He locked his eyes onto mine and said, “Yes, it is a hard thing to do.”

          Maintaining his focus, he paused again. He gestured toward my pin and said, “Thank you for your support.”

          I kept my eyes on his as I nodded, solemnly and more than a little respectfully.      
 
          The Ukrainian, the Russian, and I then headed off in our respective directions, resuming our respective journeys.

Sometimes, many times, we benefit ourselves and others by listening, as honestly, as respectfully and as participatively as we can, using our ears, our hearts, our words, and just taking the time available in a moment… the time to slow down to the speed of the meaningfully human and to wait, to dedicate the time to hear and to let the possible unfold, however improbable it might come to seem, however affirming it might prove to be.

May we all take joy and sustenance from our respective traditions at this time of year.  May we all afford and receive joy and sustenance from the moments that and from the people whom those traditions bring to us.  May we all face the new year with renewed hope born of renewed and revitalized connections with whomever we share this part of the river—both those for whom we wait and those who wait for us.