Patience is not calm

I had a realization the other day.

Patience is not calm.

There’s construction going on in the unit beside us and the noise makes Loona anxious. Anxious to get out.

So when we were about to go for our afternoon walk, she started acting 50x more amped up than usual. She bodychecked me once as we were going down the stairs. I realized I forgot something (back up the stairs we go - impatience with myself, with the situation, with her all starting to brew), and coming back down she bodychecked me again, hard.

“Ow! Loona! Calm the fuck down!”

I hadn’t had a reaction like that in awhile.

This glimpse into a past version of me gave me a brief shock. Which then brought me back to the present.

I bent down to put on her harness. “I’m sorry.”

Her enthusiasm had not waned.

Thank God for dogs.

On the walk I gave myself a talking to. The noise all day had been incessant. I’d piled probably more on my plate in terms of “to-do’s” than made sense (Monday motivation skewing realistic expectations, once again). Sleep past couple of nights had been fragmented (hours of fireworks one night, hours of serenading from the neighbour’s dog the next). My nervous system had taken a bit of a frying.

So maybe next time, we notice when we’re at 50% and start to bring it back down. Rather than waiting til 80 or 90.

Patience like this with myself never used to be possible.

The self-shaming would be too much. So a flash of anger, denial, and shifting the blame would have been the usual course of action.

What changed is no longer wanting to avoid. And knowing now that the opposite of avoidance isn’t confrontation.

It’s forgiveness.

It's recognizing that sometimes our actions don't match our intentions. Because we're human, and we fuck up sometimes.

If we shame ourselves, we'll avoid to keep from making any mistakes. We freeze. Flight. Fight.

We get closer to each other by allowing compassion and forgiveness from others.

By allowing ourselves to say, okay, I messed up. Let me do better. Let me try again.

Patience is not passive.

It requires us to be active in the participation of our experience.

It requires a willingness to stay open when we want to close up.

It requires us to forgive when we want to blame.

Be curious when we want to judge.

It requires us to ask questions instead of filling the gap with a harsh statement.

Patience isn’t an outward expression. It’s an inner dialogue that requires utmost honesty.

It is hard work that requires softness when we want to attack tension with aggression.

It requires us to stay here, to act out love - in precisely the moments when we don’t feel we deserve it.

How would patience change the way you speak to yourself?

How would it change how you feel?