Patience....I hear she's a great gal....

The funny thing about change is that it comes in it's own time...not when you decide.  I have trouble with this....ironically, many people have told me that I have a lot of patience.  I believe the term they were searching for is endurance...not patience.

As I hit, what I consider a new low for myself....I found myself crying during a Miley Cyrus movie...I realized that my achey breakey heart has never been allowed the opportunity to heal from anything.  I have always rushed headlong into the next diversion;  that way I wouldn't have to actively feel any pain.  I am truly the master of keeping up appearances and pushing negative aside.  I talk a good game...everything happens for a reason....good things come to those who wait...it's always darkest before the dawn...I sound like I am full of ...uh...patience; when, in reality, I've had my fill of patience...or, pseudo patience.

As I lay on the couch, in my crusty pajamas, with the cats purring on top of me, pleased that I hadn't moved for  six straight hours, and Miley hee-hawed through her performance (I'm sorry...she is a bit horsed-mouthed and she'll probably never read this blog), and I wiped my salty tears as she pretended to cry, I had the strongest urge to get up and do anything that would make it appear that I wasn't feeling low.  I barely had the patience to give myself license to feel the hurt.

Now, don't misunderstand, I'm not purposely wallowing in self-pity.  I'm just trying to stand still and be quiet and allow myself to move through all of this without buying things to fill the emptiness or going out on dates with anyone and everyone.  But, truthfully, when you make the conscious decision to stay still, allowing change to come to you...it's not as easy as you would think, especially for someone who is a bit of a rainmaker.

The Miley-cry was my breaking point, though.  I chipped myself off the couch, shook off five pounds of cat hair, colored my hair, showered and shaved...my legs, not my face.  Although, laying still for six hours brought me close to growing a beard.  I couldn't pretend that I had enough patience to allow this to go on any longer.  I was already at the bottom of the Cyrus well and patience wasn't throwing down a rope.

I decided that I would take the next important step in change.  Starting tomorrow, I will start researching the things that I am interested in...the things that I have always wanted to do, but never given myself the freedom to do.  It's time to make a list of what I would do, if I could do anything...what would that look like?....how would it open itself to me?...what risks would I be willing to take?...

I'm not worried about this part...this is what I feel most comfortable doing.  As for patience, as I wait for my requests to happen, I'll deal with her...she's not Miley Cyrus, but I hear she's a great gal...