Metaphors

It continues to be a bit challenging to stay on top of the potential metaphors to use when speaking of the intensive process I am going through. Yes, I've referred to everything from new stretches of river, to coming about in a sailboat, to pregnancy and rebirth (did I tell you that I recently had a dream in which I was literally pregnant, the first one I ever remember?) 

This morning, a new and very apt one literally greeted me as I turned on my computer. You know how it is some evenings when you go to turn your computer off, and it says it's installing updates, then it turns itself off, and when you turn it on the next morning, it is installing yet more updates? It tells you "this may take some time," or words to that effect. Well, that seems to be my metaphor du jour. In keeping with the Advent theme of waiting, I have a feeling that a rumble of updates is going on under my surface, under the level of my conscious awareness, and that my job right now is to wait for them to completely load, at which point the "computer" that is Liz will restart. I won't have a new computer, just one capable of more complex and up-to-date thinking and acting. I will be more aligned with my own future. This waiting isn't passive, although in an action-oriented culture we are so often encouraged to think that it is. I can only imagine that at a workplace, a ten or fifteen minute wait for updates may be utterly infuriating. For a mystic, a time of limbo is just fine and dandy. But I also can't completely fall asleep, because when "I" restart, there will be a new action calling me.