patience

the stillness. the waiting. the knowing it's all as it should be. Even as my heartbeat speeds up and wants to fling myself forward, the pause and appreciation of the space all around.

Used to think that the space between me and what I wanted would close up like one of those hatch doors that action heroes are always rolling under just in the nick of time, while you're on the edge of your seat yelling Go! Yes! You're finally safe now! Yay! (But then, inevitably on the other side of the door another challenge was waiting. oh, movies, why do you metaphorically reflect our life?) My plan was always to go toward the thing I wanted, ignore the squirming as I held it tightly, while claiming, You're mine now! Often it would go limp from lack of air. oops. That worked well...not so much.

My movement in studio reflected that as well: urrr. stomp. grab. roll. shake. my song. my angst. my head banging on the floor. ouch. The way I rolled in running has also been with some impatience, not as far as speed, but regarding endurance. Run through the pain, get to the finish. Right this moment, my body is teaching me about patience as I recover from a funky pull in my right knee that's keeping me from marathon training for a minute (OK, going into my second week). And, frankly, it's frustrating to realize I'm not the hardcore, what-me-injured-pshaw person I've thought of myself as (hello? this is your ego calling). But the flip side is that my body in the studio is showing me how luscious it is to take my time. Reach and stretch in a move and stay there, hold it even, but not throttle or grab. There's still urgency, but where i've agitated then pulled away for not trusting I'd be able to stay grounded in the moment, now the energy is all curiosity. Hmmm, what might happen if i just stay here, let the music wash over me and see where my next move comes from.

And now to the translation of this within my inner landscape. a place where wide-open skies used to just make me want to build a busier skyline. I'm suddenly finding that desire and space can coexist when there's communication involved. Another used-to moment was my thought that if i didn't pull a dazzle-and-grip, maybe like a wrestler's take-down move, that the object of my affection would fade away. Moment lost never to come again. (The memory of my previous urgency is so exhausting that I almost need a nap just from the remembering.) And truth be, there is a nibble of impatience inside me for wanting more now of this new and awesome presence in my life, but i'm also pretty sure that the sweetness in the process of getting to where we want to be is just right.

This last weekend I floated on a pond in the middle of trees and under a blue sky. I looked across to the shore and saw a person I was impatient to touch, but i felt lazy from the sunshine and happy from the knowledge that there he was and there was no rush. Then he swam out to meet me.