A year ago if you asked me how good I was with waiting, I suspect without giving it much thought I would have gone for somewhere between 9 and 9.5 on a scale of 1 to 10. What I am finding out to my chagrin, prompted by a few events and a conversation with my friend M (in which I get the blame for the unravelling of a certain situation) is that I suck at this waiting business.

Waiting by its very definition has connotations of control; of self, of events and of expectations. Implicit in this definition is a sense of patience, for the inner workings of machinery set in motion by something else to run its course. It is perhaps this form of waiting that I have struggled most with over the last year. The situations where I have had very clear end goals are those in which my impatience  have cost me the most; ones in which the reality of the situation has not quite matched the pace and direction I have envisaged in my head. I suspect I also sometimes balk at the idea of trust, where the end goal is less clear and the vulnerability inherent in being powerless to affect an outcome.

Lessons to learn here, clearly.. I can only hope I get there again…