It always seems to be 4 a.m. when the words want to be on the page, and there is nothing for it but to obey. Words can’t tell time.
What woke me this morning was a word. It’s not a big word, but it has always had a huge impact on my life. Patience.
Guns n Roses wrote a whole song about it, although to be fair, Axl Rose just made bad rhymes while he whined about walking the streets at night, just trying to get it right, and the streets don’t change but maybe the name.
Patience is part of acceptance and letting go; it is a key part of it. I have always believed that things happen for a reason and that the timing is important. Things happen when they happen for a reason. I’ve always needed to know the reason – always. As I’ve gotten older, I deal with ambiguity better, but it is not my friend. It is so difficult for me to let things play out.
I need a plan. I need to be able to see what’s ahead. I’m okay with changing plans and turning around and going in a different direction, but I need to have that map. It makes me feel safe. It makes me feel in control.
I used to annoy my therapist (which had its own rewards) because I tend to talk things to death (you probably never noticed). The thing is, I talk and I say the same thing in different ways until I finally figure it out. And I just figured it out. Did you see the light bulb? 💡
It makes me feel in control. Knowing where I’m going – having a plan – makes me feel in control. And if I am in a situation that requires patience, it most likely means there isn’t really a plan – no one knows how it will turn out. And that drives me batshit. I don’t know how to “wait and see.” I can’t relax and do nothing – I simply cannot do it.
That’s when my faith is tested – and it always fails. I have a picture in my mind of what I want the outcome to be and if I step back, I fear it won’t happen the way I envision it. So I push. Then I push again. Sooner or later, I push too far … and the outcome I wanted becomes impossible. Then I blame God, because really, if he wanted me to have patience, I’d have it, right?
I’ve always thought I am a very trusting person. I trust people not to be assholes and to do the right thing. I am very forgiving. When it is important, though, when it involves my heart, I trust very few people. So it follows that I don’t really trust God not to fuck things up. Which is kind of crazy because I thought God and I were cool these days.
I can’t tie this together neatly. It’s still jumbled in my head, but that’s what happens when words attack at 4a.m.