[wait]

I am impatient.

No, I mean like, I have a hard time waiting for my french press impatient. I inevitably sit there staring at it for 15 seconds, determined not to let it oversteep (it steeps, right?), then get so frustrated that I jump up to accomplish something in the 3.75 minutes I have left, at which point I get distracted by another thing, and 15 minutes later, Amy calls from the kitchen, "Em, did you want me to press this?"

Oh. Yeah.

I am impatient when I should let other people learn on their own.

What I want most in my life is fragile. Relationships are tricky like a french press, but without the industry established timeline of 4 minutes. They don't really have very many rules (Love the Lord your God, Love your neighbor as yourself. Any questions?). When I take what I want when I want it, I destroy it. Like a little girl holding an eagerly crushed caterpillar, I lift up my relationships to the sky and say "Why isn't this moving anymore? What's all this mess left on my hands?"

When I get frustrated, I have to calm down and talk to myself like I'm that little girl: patiently, slowly, and with real sorrow over the smushed bug. It sounds weird, but it's the only way I can be kind and nonjudging to myself and still learn.

I hate being patient.

I've almost finished with Burn Notice, Season 3. I like that show. It's smart and funny and predictable and interesting and a lot of stuff blows up, and sometimes I laugh and rewind and shake my head over something insightful delivered by an ex-spy with killer sunglasses: "The hardest thing to do when an operation goes bad is nothing at all. It's pure torture. But if it's the only way to give a team member a chance at survival, you have no choice but to stand by and watch." - Michael Westen. Season 3, Episode 15, 'Good Intentions'

It's hard to engage and stand back at the same time. To know your boundaries, to live up to them, but not beyond them. Then again, the only way to give your team members a chance isn't to hold them close. You have to stand apart. And watch. And be patient. And hope that the people you are learning to love can smart or fight their ways out of the situation.

I've got to open my hands, even if it means watching the caterpillar crawl away. If I keep it held tight in my fist, I know it won't survive. I have to stand by and watch, even though it's torture.

I am learning patience and drinking cold bitter coffee.

but i will hold on
hold on
hold on
but i will hold on
hope
[mumford and sons - thistle & weeds]