Conscious and Patient are not two words I have always been excellent at embodying in my life. I have been known to throw little tantrums, huff, swear, sigh, roll my eyes, and Arran’s least favourite, stomp my foot in a rage. Yep, stomping my foot like a little child, except with all the humiliation I have to suffer after having done it. I work at a furiously fast pace, even texting and reading I do at great speed, and when the rest of the world seems to not keep up, I can simply totally lose it.
I began to get very honest with myself, that impatience was blocking me from being conscious. And being conscious and creative was inspired, awe-filled and being graceful. And I certainly wanted that. Sometimes it’s having motivation deep enough that moves us from our ruts. Getting clear on what we actually want, as opposed to continual beating up oneself on the shitty things we are already doing, provides the path out.
Toofy also arrived early this year. Our adorable little mutt that is so old, and has no teeth and a heart as big as the earth. My patience with him knows no end. Maybe it’s because he was badly treated before he came to us. Maybe it’s his huge brown eyes and endless attitude of gratitude. Perhaps its the love I feel for him that is so dangerously huge. Maybe it’s because in truth I am terrified he’s going to die very, very soon. Or it’s a combination of all of it. My patience and gentle ways with him, the grace I give him, and the softness he gets to exist within, have shown me that if it’s possible there, it’s possible everywhere. And so I am peeling back decades of pushiness, demands and impatience to find a new way of living, that is so much sweeter.
Find yourself an outpouring for your patience and it will pour out into other areas of your life as well.
Sent with love,