the patience of Job

I seem to have a love hate relationship with patience.

On the one hand, I can exhibit endless patience;

allowing life to unfold as it will...

around me

and

through me

and

with me.

No pressure.

No stress.

No worry.

On the other hand,

I can easily and effortlessly exhibit the patience of a gnat!

In those moments, I become convinced that things or people...

particularly,

family members (ahem)

are not moving fast enough for me.

In those moments, my patience is most heartily tested. 

In fact, within my family we joke that the epitaph upon my tombstone shall read:

"Still Waiting..."

because it seems

that I am FOREVERWAITING for my family members to 

get organized

get going

and

get out the door!!!

And in those moments when I am waiting...and waiting...and waiting...

it seems abundantly clear that my circumstances (a.k.a. my family) are the cause of my feelings of impatience.

How could they not be?

After all...

I am the one

AT the door

AT the designated time...

watching with increasing dismay

as they

stumble around aimlessly

or

disappear for extended stretches of time...

oblivious to the fact that we SAID we were going to leave

5 minutes AGO!!!

Arghhh.

I can literally feel my breath seize

and my chest tighten

as I reanimate this

all too familiar scene.

Deep breath.

It's not real.

And yet...it seems so very very real.

And it seems as if THEYare once againcausing my feelings of exasperation and impatience.

But...

as much as I would LOVE a convenient excuse for my feelings...

I know better...

because...

even though it appears as if they are responsible...

How could they be?

After all...

I am the one who recreated that scene

in my mind's eye

AND experienced the exact same feelings

as if it were happening in real time.

But,

that little scene?

It wasn't real.

It existed only in my mind.

It wasn't based on any real in-the-moment live circumstances...

because my true real time circumstances are that I am sitting here on a beautiful Sunday afternoon typing these words.

Nothing more.

And so,

I realize once again that 

the feelings I experience,

are never caused by my circumstances -

whether real or imagined.

They areonly and always created from within.

Through my thinking.

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Lana Bastianutti