Patience, like time, is something I can never really master. Just when I think I have patience under control, I get another curve ball thrown right into the sweet spot and I’m standing there swinging at thin air.
How long do I have patience before I get up and walk out the door? I mean really there aught to be a kill switch, a point where I make an informed decision and begin to step away from the situation that’s requiring my patience.
Today has been a particularly trying day for me. I’ve been asking myself if patience is necessary here, or if the smartest move is to kick my arse into high gear and GET SHIT DONE.
I work most days until my eyes are red and my mind is fried. I wake up in the morning and I feel so lucky – and relieved – that the sweet sweet embrace of sleep has repaired me to my ready state again. I believe entirely that my hard work will pay off. I only catch glimpses of what paying off even means, dreams, and that glimpse leaves me yearning for something I’m curious (should) even exists.
Maybe I’ve been misunderstanding what patience even is, and the real meaning of patience is not to resist the anxiety that builds when I’m trying to be patient for something, but to just embrace the moments that my anxiety sends away fleeting. Maybe the whole construct of patience is to distract my vision away from the end goal and to take a deep breath and focus on the state of being at this exact moment.
There is a chance that this is just my knowledge of ancient Guerilla tactics of consciousness, where subtly bringing awareness back to a focal point – like breath or a flame – can encourage the unease in the mind to dissipate. Am I just distracting myself?
Must there be a difference? Just thinking about this has enlivened my mind, rejuvenated my heart, and enthused my soul.