As one may have gathered from previous posts, I'm not great at being patient. I know, shocking right? Considering how Zen I can be about some things. Also, my distinct lack of passivity as a person makes patience even more difficult.
Something I've also noticed recently is how hard it is to be around people who are passive and patient, and how just their very presence can sometimes make me a little twitchy.
Let me preface this with a big disclaimer; you people are awesome. Whether you have this ability consistently, or it comes and goes depending on the situation, I really respect the capacity for this sort of behaviour. Because honestly, I just don't have it, and inaction, in many forms, makes me a little 12 Monkeys, as it were.
Recently I have spent a great deal of time contemplating events in my thirties, and came to an interesting conclusion; I notice complacency a lot quicker and my desire to rectify it is swifter. I've discussed this before, in a professional setting, and maybe that was the start of my realisation of overall issues, an indication of my revelations to come. Though, clearly, I didn't know it at the time.
In terms that are not so bloody cryptic however, I've done a self-inventory and found myself wanting. I've hit my seven year cycle and the the start of Spring is on the way, so it's no wonder I feel so motivated.
Every few years people have a Spring clean of their house and their surrounds then get rid of all the clutter that is taking up their space. Every five to seven years, people get what is commonly called the seven-year-itch, and make some massive changes. These changes usually start small and spiral outwards to their home, jobs, and relationships.
Mine has kicked in with a vengeance and I'm now riding the wave like a pro surfer at Oahu, Hawaii. Except, you know, with more grumpy face and extra swearing.
In relation to passivity, I'm struggling to be around people who are gliding along with nary a stray ripple. I'm not sure how that's going to work out in the long-term as, you know, passivity certainly has its place in our lives, but I'm hoping it starts to settle. Being twitchy all the time is just bloody annoying.
The catalyst started with my second-in-a-week dream about my car flooding. On a scale of one-to-that's-pretty-odd, this isn't that high up there. For me, anyway. But it is an indication of the state of play in my life.
Previously, I've talked about how dreams can mean your subconscious is trying to tell you something, or, if you believe in it, like I do, they are messages and glimpses of things to come.
That doesn't mean my car is going to flood. Situationally, I'd be interested to find out how that would come to pass, but not really. Carpet car-shampooing is expensive. And I'm more interested in what my subconscious is trying to tell me; the obvious message behind it.
Water is deeply connected to emotion, and at this time of contemplation and reflection, I haven't spent a lot of time being outwardly emotional. Letting negative events or comments, at work for example, effect your calm and leave you being the only one who suffers.
That being said, when your subconscious, or sometimes even your conscious, starts to send messages like that, you need to pay attention. Losing your shit in the supermarket at the checkout person or bursting into tears watching The Bachelor is a sure sign that there's some emotional stuff that just needs a little more your attention.
Last week I fell down some stairs and sprained my ankle in a nasty way. This would clearly be the universes' way of telling me to SLOW THE FUCK DOWN. Which was a fair call to be honest; there really is only so much you can fit into one day. Or one thirty-minute, oven-timed session, to be exact.
But here's why I'm finding passivity hard at the moment; I can't commit to the idea of a holding pattern. I can't. Like some people get deathly afraid of spiders, or confined spaces make them nuts, the idea of letting outside forces do all the work, even for a short period of time, makes my skin crawl.
Don't mistake me here; I'm all for putting in the hard yards and waiting for the results to show. But when things are chugging along, no new projects or ideas have appeared for a good while, and most people think there's not much you can do but wait, that's when I become super motivated and start pulling rabbits out a hat like a magician on crack.
I can't stop. Ever. Whether you think that's a fault or not, that's the way I'm wired and I suspect that's the way I've always been. At this age, I've developed a finely-honed sense of when the wheels are about to fall off, and I tend to jump into action just before they do. It's when things are quiet and relaxed that I get this nagging feeling there's something missing and lose it. Conversely, when it's all chaos and whirlwinds, I've got a smile on my face and a spring in my step.
Where I'm going with this is thus; constant motion, physically and mentally, makes me feel safe and free. Stagnancy and static make me feel like my skin is trying to crawl off my body. Slowly and painfully.
Now before you all think that I have no ability to be still at all, just remember that I said I was at my best when things were in flux. Which is also when I relax. I relax just before all hell breaks loose, when the fight is on, and when the everything starts to die down. And I breathe easy when the fallout seeps through. It's prolonged periods of inertia that make my face ache.
My point, and I promise I have one, is that I feel again the need to tout the importance of evolution. Like a hummingbird that is constantly in motion, I cannot accept that we as beings ever stop. Slow down maybe, pull back and dart forward perhaps, but never, ever stop.
And I guess my incomprehension grows, the further along this path I get, when I come to people or situations that do. Stop, I mean. In a last-ditch attempt to get my point across, let me use the metaphor of traffic lights.
When you stand at the curb waiting for the green figure to appear, you know that depending on where you are and what time of day it is, the wait between the green and red can be quite a variance. But you have no doubt, eventually, green it will turn.
What if it didn't? How long would you wait? When would the frustration kick in? When would you say, fuck it, and try to duck through traffic or move down to another set of lights?
Do you have a short attention span or do you wait patiently to see what will happen? Personally, I'm pretty chill with the whole thing; I stand patiently and wait, and when they do turn green - because Sydney is ludicrously dangerous - I even wait three seconds then step onto the road. But there is a limit.
I like to think I have a suitable deal of patience. But life is short and sharp, or long and dull, depending on how you live it, and I don't want to spend my life waiting for the fucking lights to change. Savvy? I'm not so cavalier that I'll risk my life just to get hit by a truck, but I'm also not going to wait passively until a function of society tells me when I can come and go.
And if you're still with me after that epic amount of metaphor (so proud, actually!), then let me cyber-hug you and tell you how much I appreciate your patience and understanding. Let me tell you that your time will be rewarded with all my best moods, all my good times, all my crazy ideas, and all my clever and calm ones. You will bask in the warmth of my ambition and I will love you all the more for your dubious acceptance, your unwavering scrutiny, and even your passive support.
If you gave up around the skin-crawling talk, that's also a fair call. This mentality is not for everyone. This merry-go-round isn't everyones' cup of tea. I can understand and respect that.
Know this however; the path you choose leads you to your desires. Standing still is also a choice, but the path does not move closer to you because you choose only to stand near it.
Be bold, be brave, be fierce.
Be amazing. Be it like a brass band or like a whisper, choose motion.