Waiting…

I am incredibly impatient, and that doesn’t bode well for my life. I teach and I write. I have a wife, two young daughters and type 1 diabetes. All of these elements demand great attention, and of course, patience. At times, I fail at both. More often, I’m awful at the latter.

I’ve always been this way, constantly wanting to move onto the next thing. It’s irritating, especially since I am self-aware, often within the moment, that I’m being a complete pain in the ass. Which I am, because impatience is a universally annoying trait. I cannot stand it in others, nor myself. So why can’t I stop?

I don’t know. Right now I’m waiting on my revision letter from my editor. It’s not even remotely late, but I’m ready and in my mind that’s all that matters. Ridiculous. My editor should withhold it another week just to teach me a lesson.

All this impatience is not good for my health, either. I recently injured myself. Nothing serious, a minor abdominal tear, but something that needs the classic R.I.C.E. protocol. Two weeks of being patient and listening to my body and dialing down my training. I might lose my mind, even though I know it’s the right thing.

Maybe I should chalk it up to being creative and my mind demanding constant stimulus? That’s a bit of a cop out, though. Because I can force myself to chill. I know how. It just boils down to whether or not I make the choice.

And as clichéd as it is, that’s what my entire problem is, what life is all about, choice. I don’t want to miss out on anything, so I try to get through everything, now. That way I’ll have enough time for other things. But then I deplete all my options and I’m left to stew. I, instead, need to enjoy the moment.

 

I did manage that a few times this weekend, while icing, lying in bed and watching Dora the Explorer with my youngest; taking the time to affix the stylus to my eldest’s Leap Pad Explorer (insanely difficult); not working out, but researching best practices for returning after my injury.

So I did slow it down. I can. And I’ll remind myself to do so, again, when the revision letter comes, when my injury heals, when whatever comes next. I will be better for it, as will everyone else who is affected by me. Tom Petty was so right.

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