Like most everyone else out there, patience is not something that I am good at. I may come across as smooth, graceful and even-tempered in the face of change, of temperamental eruptions, and of failure. But like all of us, sometimes there are things that drive me stark-raving mad. And certain situations--like moving or Christmas, or awaiting a life-changing event can cause a tremendous amount of excitement and anxiety. Anyone who really knows me, knows this to be true.
Part of the wonderful thing about having a second child is that there is a certain pattern, a familiarity. Not everything is new and sometimes that takes some of the anxiety out of it. I'd say that waiting for Baby Girl to arrive has been, up until point, relatively easy. I expected would take some time and have tried not to worry or speed up the process. I've been relishing my mama-time with Gabriel, my time with my husband and the patterns of our lives--knowing them all to change.
But waiting is difficult. Patience is a practice. And lately, how easily my mind lingers in the evenings, filled with excitement and anticipation. And nervousness. I try to slow my brain, picture boats and ocean waves and fields of flowers or whatever works to lull the brain to sleep. And yet, my thoughts pace the insides of my brain like a ricocheting ping-pong ball in the darkness of our room.
How to be still and acquire the Art of Patience? How to quiet the brain? That is my task today. To pick up anew the rhythms of patience. And remember that for me, part of the Art of Patience is distraction, in filling my days with adventures, while quieting my evenings. In recognizing the journey and being content in the now.
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