Patience
I've gotta work on being more patient.
I've decided that that was the problem yesterday: wanting everything finished and finished NOW. That, and, as Michelle mentioned in yesterday's comments, perfection. Wanting it right the first time.
While I was out and about yesterday, people were so kind. The kind of goodness where you let a car out and the driver enthusiastically thanks you with a wave. The kind of thoughtfulness where the cashier at the Weis tells you that because you used your club card, you're entitled to a free box of Kettle Korn (even though you were oblivious to the "Buy 1, Get 1 Free" sign below the boxes). The kind of niceness where people are honking their horns and grinning at the Santa Claus who is standing in front of the parking lot where they sell Christmas trees, and you find yourself swept away in the movement and honking your horn, too (and not feeling one bit foolish, even though you are 34 year old woman, in a car without children, wearing your Russian hat and two scarves, and mouthing the words: Hey, Santa!).
I feel patient, now. When I checked my email, I didn't immediately hope that there would be a response from a literary magazine for a story that I submitted. I didn't hope for Borders' coupons or comments for this blog. I just clicked on my account and waited.
No preconceived ideas. No expectations.
Just peace and patience.
What a nice feeling.
I've decided that that was the problem yesterday: wanting everything finished and finished NOW. That, and, as Michelle mentioned in yesterday's comments, perfection. Wanting it right the first time.
While I was out and about yesterday, people were so kind. The kind of goodness where you let a car out and the driver enthusiastically thanks you with a wave. The kind of thoughtfulness where the cashier at the Weis tells you that because you used your club card, you're entitled to a free box of Kettle Korn (even though you were oblivious to the "Buy 1, Get 1 Free" sign below the boxes). The kind of niceness where people are honking their horns and grinning at the Santa Claus who is standing in front of the parking lot where they sell Christmas trees, and you find yourself swept away in the movement and honking your horn, too (and not feeling one bit foolish, even though you are 34 year old woman, in a car without children, wearing your Russian hat and two scarves, and mouthing the words: Hey, Santa!).
I feel patient, now. When I checked my email, I didn't immediately hope that there would be a response from a literary magazine for a story that I submitted. I didn't hope for Borders' coupons or comments for this blog. I just clicked on my account and waited.
No preconceived ideas. No expectations.
Just peace and patience.
What a nice feeling.
posted by Cate at 7:21 PM
3 Comments:
Patience... I remember having some of that!:))
I know, one is supposed to be in a rush for life and everything when you are very young and then as you get older and mature, you aquire a lovely patina of patience. Well as usual, I did it backwards:)
loads of patience when I was younger...now I want a magic wand that gets it done and done, NOW!
(I blame computers) now where is my undo button when I've broken a glass all over the kitchen floor?!?
Hope you have a lovely day:)
~LD
I love the "undo" button! You're right--we need one of those for everyday!
I've always been impatient. I'm a hard worker, but I expect immediate results. I gather that this will be a struggle for me for a long time!
"Lovely patina of patience" . . . that was beautiful!
Have a great day, too, Ldahl.
Funny how some days counter the bad ones.
Days like these are the reasons to get up and enjoy life. Sometiomes they help you forget the days when the driver cuts you off, or you did not see them and they give you that lovely finger (not the one telling you that they think you are number one).
I'm glad to see that you had a day that countered the last one.
Hope you have a few more!
Read ya' later!
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