I am losing my patience.
I never had much to begin with. I’m the girl who wants what she wants, when she wants it, and if she can’t get it easily, she fights for it. And while you might say that that is a form of patience, I disagree… fighting for it is my way of making sure I get it. It’s progress. It keeps me busy. I am DOING something about it.
I am a control freak. A control freak that has no patience. A dangerous combination. At least I’m not short tempered anymore.
It’s really quite interesting what goes on in my head. On any given day, it’s full of plans for the things that I want and a strategy for making sure I get them. Those plans float around alongside knowledge of all the things I DO NOT want to do – and ways to get out of having to do them. Those swirl, clockwise, around a layer of frustrations I’m repressing because I do not want to lose my temper. All crowded around a nexus of recognition – recognition of things, circumstances, situations I cannot control. And the nexus often feeds back into my desires. It’s a vicious cycle.
I can identify it. I can’t navigate it sometimes. My third eye can weed through it… at least it can see the eventual outcome of some of those uncontrollable circumstances. But, as any sensible person knows, the third eye is fallible in the sense that it can see what IS and what WILL BE solely on the basis of current circumstances. She is awake, and she is talking, and I am listening, but I am ever-aware that things change, and they change often, and that sometimes the things that change are changing due to circumstances beyond my control.
And having no control frustrates the hell out of me. I don’t need full control. I don’t need to have my hands on the steering wheel all the time (and I really do hate driving). That said, if I’m not the one driving and I’m not the one navigating, I at least need to be able to call the shots on when I get lunch and when I get to have a pee break. And when I don’t get that, though you’ll never see it, on the inside I’m the annoying little kid that kicks the back of your seat while you drive screaming, “Are we there yet?”
“Oh but you are navigating, and driving, it’s your life after all,” you’re probably saying. But am I? I am not a hermit, I do not live in this world by myself. And because of that, I do not have utter control all the time. On a more simplistic viewpoint, I don’t control the flow of traffic… I sit in it, just like everyone else, for some unknown reason. More personally (and more complicatedly), some of the most intensive situations that I want to know the most about, and could really use some foresight on, are not solely up to me. “If things stay the same, they’ll end up here,” she says. But things DON’T stay the same. That’s not how it works. She doesn’t have an answer to that.
I live my life, but I also sit on the sidelines as an observer. It’s like being the lifeguard of my very own swimming pool. I am in the middle of it, swimming, but I am also in the chair with a whistle in my hand, ready to call it if I see some sort of infraction. I should stop being so paranoid. But then on the other hand, if I fire the lifeguard, and shit happens, there’ll be no one to tell me to get the fuck out.
The third eye has been restless lately. I’m reminded of a quote that I read about the pineal and the third eye… someone who had awakened theirs described it like this: “When it’s good it’s wonderful, when it’s bad it’s horrid, when I turn it off I am lost.”
I don’t know what it would be like to have a pineal that is not working. Mine never turned off. It’s how and why I can see what I see and do what I do. But she’s been bad lately, and it’s been horrid, and it’s not even PMS week. Which is why I’m paying a little more attention than I usually do. I can’t turn it off… when it’s off, as I’ve said in an earlier post somewhere, it’s like being out in the middle of a crowded room, completely naked. And anyway, likely it’s telling me that something is out of whack somewhere, or that something big is coming, and I need to prepare myself for it. It just won’t tell me exactly what. And so, blinded by the vagueness, I don’t know what to identify. Though I have a few ideas.
I need patience to try to figure this out. I need patience because I think a lot of it will turn right side up again very soon, in one way or another, and the only thing that is going to be able to rectify some of it is time. But it’s gnawing at me in the same way that my once broken ankle gnaws at me when it’s getting ready to storm outside.
And my patience is wearing.