Next up to the mic: patience
Define patience: Patience is the ability to remain calm, self-controlled, and steadfast while waiting, enduring difficulties, or facing frustration without complaining. It involves managing emotions to accept delays or adversity constructively, rather than reacting impulsively. Key synonyms include forbearance, endurance, composure, persistence, and serenity.
Have patience. Be patient. I have been considering how being brave feels way different than seeing someone be brave. Having courage feels destabilizing, disorientating, and activated like in a fight or flight response; however, seeing someone have courage is warm, hopeful and inspiring. Yes, it is much lighter of an experience to see someone do something incredible rather than to have to overcome the mental or physical obstacles for yourself.
Define Grace: Grace is defined as the unmerited favor, love, or mercy given by God to humans, often regarded as a divine influence that strengthens and regenerates. It also refers to elegance in movement, polite behavior, a short prayer before meals, or a temporary reprieve granted from an obligation.
Give yourself grace. Give them grace. I know some people have a different relationship to pressure, as some use it as a tool to push themselves beyond what they can imagine, and others feeling crushed by its force pushing them along in life. I have never been a fan of pressure, I like to think that I can get a lot done when I feel safe and nurtured. Although, there are some moments where even I forget to give myself, or anyone, grace. I can be ruthless and blind to my own efforts and the efforts of those participating in my life.
When something takes time, I almost forget to have grace for myself, for the struggles that come with having patience. Patience feels stifling when all I want is clear movement and obvious growth. I want to feel the way I thought I would feel. I want to hold the outcome. I want to be seen in my efforts.
I have been battling with the perception(s) of me vs. the reality that I live— I want to be seen as the patient one. The one who stayed steady while everything changed. It is as if I want to be seen inside my cocoon, in the in-between state of mush that a caterpillar is before becoming the butterfly— see me as the mush,
see me: uncertain, undecided, and directionless— and watch me come to life. In the mush. this is where the magic is. Not in the beginning with the great idea, not at the peak with the recognition or imagined sense of completeness, but instead the magic is in the process.
The space between thought and reality.
I wonder if I can invite someone there without feeling vulnerable or observed so much that it changes the process. This idea of being witnessed in process sent me spinning as I reject the sensation of being perceived but almost equally I desperately desire to be seen. The further along I get into this process of change, the more I am unable to explain myself and I grow tired of trying to. I want expression so true that it satisfies the deep hunger for movement that keeps me from being present in the moment— like if I could scratch this itch, then I would finally be present. I would no longer feel like my life in the company of others was some how getting in the way of my self discovery. I find myself clinging to being alone like it is the only way I will ever feel safe enough for my true self to emerge in glowing vulnerability, as if I fear being seen as open. Catch myself using people as food for thought, “how do you deal? What are your thoughts like?” and hoping that they would give me insight that I could use to break myself open even more. I want to consume everything I am— sometimes I forget to give myself grace, to live plainly and enjoy. I beg myself for this magical outcome and become impatient. “How will it end? Will I love again? Will I accept the things that have disturbed me for so long?
Where is my patience? Where is my grace? Can you please give me more time? I ask fearfully.
Will there be enough time for me to feel satisfied? Probably not.
Okay, have a good night.
