A hurried post on patience

Time waits for no man. But Dog will. Photo by 1514.

Good things come to those who wait.

But good long waits come to those who can't wait. Such is cosmic irony. It's hilarious.

You know you should wait. Take a deep breath. Live in the moment. Let things unfold.

Screw that. It takes too long.

Instead you drum your fingers on the table and over your keyboards. You stare at your screen(s). You put friends on speed dial to talk you off your manufactured ledge whenever roller-coaster emotions threaten to nudge you off into the busy street below. You journal your excitement and cloak your anxiety and stock up on ice cream even though it's not on sale. You go to bed late without doing anything of note, and you get up early only to arrive 20 minutes late anyway. You're afraid to daydream because daydreams aren't guaranteed to come true. You can't help but daydream because it's the only state where you're productive. Are you sleepy or distracted? Confused or illuminated? Dare you trust instinct over intellect in this compromised state? Neither, you decide. So you let all your feelings collide in agonizing slow motion while you watch the clock over their frenetic heads, waiting for the planned-for, waiting for the wished-for, waiting for the unknown.

Then.

After all this cantwaitcantwaitcantwait ...

It's over. Done. Whatever it turned out to be. The flush of discovery fades. The zing of newness subsides. Reality re-forms around what used to make you toss and turn. You're left wondering why you rushed it in the first place. You wonder why it took so long yet went so fast. And instead you ask --

Was it worth the frenzy?

Was it worth missing the meantime?

Prayer #220: A Good Wait

God, see me through this, or I will explode all over the place in tiny messy bits that are likely to stain the carpet.

I don't want that. You don't want that. So let's work together, shall we?

Amen.