sustain:if:able kiwi

spirituality of wetlands

This week a colleague and I wrapped up another round of interviews for a project on the future of theological education and ministry training. The interactions now number 40, with over 140 people, ranging from 1-1 to large group.

Next week we will read back through the summaries we have made of each interaction, preparing an interim report.

Today is a transition, from gathering data to communicating data, from listening to communicating. It was good on the way to the airport, to pause and reflect on this transition. It was good to stop in the sun and soak in the blessing of a wetlands tidal zone.

It is easy to rush past a tidal zone. I am on my way to the airport. There is a flight to catch. Yet here I am surrounded by transition and change.

In this wetland, there are different plants and birds. There are different paths, a boardwalk when the tide is in, but a dirt path when the tide is out. There are unique plants, adept at coping with distinct and different environments. This applies to wetlands. It applies to myself as an individual, negotiating a new season as a contract researcher. It applies to the interactions I have been privileged to be part in this research project. In all 40, there is transition and change, a deep unease with what is, a deep uncertainty about what the tides of society are doing.

It is tempting to want to rush back, to what was known. Or to rush sideways, to seize something shiny from a neighbour nearby. Or to rush forward to a brighter alternative. Yet there is life in a transitional zone. There are unique adaptations. There are different paths. There are different ways of existing.