Writing with Patience
Yesterday I read old journals from the 90’s. At that time, my partner and I owned a French dinner restaurant and our three children were then teens and one pre-teen. We were busy! Busy with homework, the children’s sports and dance attendance, and especially with running a restaurant. Overwhelming. Mostly because we wanted to be successful, with both the restaurant and with our kids.
My parents were involved. They and two other couples helped us with our start capital. It all seemed great and real; after all, my partner was an educated chef and I had worked as a server for a while. After almost four years of operation, we crashed, and during the last year, I had to see a therapist to persevere.
When I look at it now, I can tell that we had NO patience. The success was supposed to show up, if not immediately, then within a reasonable amount of time. We were good people, gracious and hospitable. The food was excellent! The atmosphere cozy and comfortable. Why didn’t everyone just want to dine there? Of course, we had competition, plenty, in fact, as this was in a popular small town on the California coast.
I am not talking about regular impatience where you can’t wait to get to where you want to be. I’m talking about impatience that brings about negative thinking. That gnaws and grinds until you lose your trust and your confidence. Trust that you can do it, being secure in your belief, bringing about patience that simply flows along.
This feeling of trust and confidence is so important and a feeling that is more or less secure and strong, depending on your mindset. How do you perceive life? What is life about for you? Power? Control? Material gain? Financial success? Or. Sustainability? Collaboration? Innovation? Service? Can’t you tell? Impatience fuels the first four words of desire and patience feeds the last four.
I’m not saying that you cannot be successful through patience; however, it may take longer. And because we were fueled by the first four desires without integrating or better, being led by the last four, we crashed, right on our noses.
Now, twenty years later, I invite patience into my writing. I welcome the facts that it is okay to spend a whole day reading old journals; okay to let that experience percolate and manifest; and okay to work with and accept the words that I use to express same experience.
That is writing with patience.