My mother used to joke about changing her legal middle name to Patience. We always thought it was a great idea. I mean, the woman had seven kids! How could patience not be her middle name?
Unfortunately for me, I take after Dad.
Dad is an accomplished businessman, the kind of man that makes things happen. When he says jump, you better believe people will be jumping. When he says he expects results, he gets them and gets them fast. It’s that kind of weighted expectation that makes things happen in the corporate world, and it’s one of many reasons he’s a successful professional.
The thing is, while those sort of high expectations for immediate results work great in business when you’re the boss, they work a little less in personal, day-to-day life.
Much to the dismay of just about everybody, there’s no such thing as instant results. And while I realize and recognize that, I still find myself getting frustrated or impatient when things don’t instantaneously come together. This is one of the reasons that, while I love doing it, I don’t often work with oil paints.
|That, and because I can’t get the caps off any other colors.|
It’s hard to wait for things to come to fruition. Worth it, but hard, and waiting often ends with me feeling guilty over my Veruca Salt I want it now mentality. There’s lots of things I want, of course.
I want more time to write so I can finish the multiple books I’m working on.
I want the editing of Serpent’s Tears to be done so I can start querying.
I want a big house in the country.
I want a spotlessly clean and perfectly painted home.
I want, I want, I want.
This, of course, is one of the things I’m working on as 2014 blossoms. I want these things, but they aren’t urgent necessities. I’m not unhappy without them and there’s no guarantee I’d be happier if I had them. It’s tough to temper wants, but until I develop my mother’s saintly patience (if I ever do) it’s the best I can accomplish.
I’ll have it all done eventually, I have long lists of things to do to keep me on track and get me there. The hard part now is keeping my eyes on the list rather than the end result, because it’s important not to lose sight of what I’m doing in favor of pining after why I’m doing it in the first place. And really, my motives aren’t as selfish as they seem in my head when I let how much I want get in the way.
I want to finish these books so I can share the stories I have to tell with others.
I want a clean and beautiful house so I can have more time to spend with my family instead of spending so much time cleaning and working to try and make it comfortable.
I want a big house in the country so I can watch our little girl run and play in the yard with the dog, without worrying about it happening in a crime-laden city. And also so I can walk through a not-so-tiny living room without stubbing my toes on baby toys. Okay, so that part’s a little selfish, but hey, I can dream.