I’ve been quietly impatient, something I feel guilty about. My restlessness has made me impatient towards people who consistently tout their big dreams but don’t do anything about them. Maybe it’s envy, that they have found something new and exciting to work towards and I don’t. Maybe it’s arrogance, the notion that if I were in their shoes, I would do something and not just talk about it. Maybe it’s impatience, a trait I rarely overtly manifest, but that creeps up on me in the solitude of my own reflections.
Whatever it is, I feel judgmental and arrogant and I feel terrible about it. Would I really be able to do any better? I don’t know. Am I not privy to the same shortcomings? Yes, a thousand times yes. Is my restlessness simply a result of me needing to feel like I’m trying because let’s face it, if push came to shove, would I really dare to leap off the cliff? It’s so much easier to tell ourselves we have plans than to take the risk of implementing them.
I’m reading The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama and he uses that word too: restlessness. Except, out of his restlessness came a journey that eventually put him in the highest office in America. I think we can safely agree I won’t be treading the same path, but it gives me hope that out of my restlessness, something good – no matter how small – might come forth.
So I’m taking the time and space to learn and explore as much as I can, not forcing anything but simply enjoying the process and learning to trust in a divine timing. I have much to be thankful for and I am determined to celebrate what I do, what I have and the dear people I share all this with. The worst thing would be if I was so busy contemplating the future I forgot to appreciate the present.
