im·pa·tient [im-pey-shuhnt] adjective 1. not patient; not accepting delay, opposition, pain, etc., with calm or patience. 2. indicating lack of patience (um ... duh); 3. restless in desire or expectation; eagerly desirous.
Once I make my mind up about something, I'm ready to act. I suppose I want everyone else to get on-board, too. Yeh, that doesn't happen very often, so then I become frustrated. (That's a whole other topic, or is it?) Anyway, I was formerly a do-er. I think being a do-er again may be in my future, but I'm not there yet. I'm still in the recovery stage of looking around and noting what NEEDS to be done, agonizing over how I'm not doing it, then letting myself off of the hook. I still have paintings stowed being the sofa from maybe 2007 -- when we had the house re-piped. They had to knock holes into a couple walls and all over the kitchen ceiling. Those holes are patched, but were never primed and painted. David didn't do it. I didn't do it. Then he got sick again and then he died and I've just never handled it. Same with the deck. It has needed to be sealed -- stained -- whatever for a while now. The house and sidewalks need to be pressure-washed. One bathroom has the wallpaper partially removed and another has sagging towel racks that just need anchors for a couple screws. I can do these things. I'm a handyman ... but I have not done these things. Strangely, my impatience hasn't crept in enough to force my hand on these issues. I am beginning to be very embarrassed by them, however, so maybe soon ... 'ish.
Some things can be "done" without involving manual labor. I find that the polity in the church slows progress to a crawl sometimes. My pragmatism sees this as inefficiency and drives me crazy. Committee work is slow. That's where the frustration can come in. I also believe that people can love each other more efficiently. That sounds kind of strange, but what I mean is that when we feel something, we should express it. If we think something, we should share it. So much love and edifying stuff goes wasted because people are too afraid to put their emotions out there for people to see. Sad, but true. We all do it. We protect ourselves from taking risks, but so often rob others of our blessing.
frus·trat·ed [fruhs-trey-tid] adjective 1. disappointed; thwarted.
Uh huh. Impatience and frustration are very closely related, at least with me. I am disappointed rather easily. This is something that I dislike about my psyche and something I really wish I could change about myself. How does one go about doing that? How can I keep myself from being disappointed? I'm working on it -- intentionally deciding to have fewer expectations. It seems to work academically, but not practically. I truly respond emotionally and I can be very hurt when I am disappointed. That's the part I would like to discard -- the hurt. On the other hand, if I were successful in doing that, I would be a different woman. I would not love as deeply as I love. I would be less thoughtful, less mindful, less considerate of others in my life -- and I don't want that! So can I find some sort of balance?
I can't help it. I have expectations. Don't we all?
ex·pec·ta·tion [ek-spek-tey-shuhn] noun 1. the act or the state of expecting: to wait. 2. the act or state of looking forward or anticipating. 3. an expectant mental attitude; 4. something expected; a thing looked forward to. 5. a prospect of future good.
I'm waiting
I'm waiting on You, Lord
And I am hopeful
I'm waiting on You, Lord
Though it is painful
But patiently, I will wait ~John Waller
What would a world without expectations be like? I shudder to consider such a world. Nothing would ever get done with any care or keeping. There would be no kindnesses or surprises to be anticipated -- no future good realized. Okay, but people let each other down. They don't often behave they way we expect -- or the way we hope -- they will. They don't always do or say the things that would bless us or simply bring us joy. This can be very disappointing. I, for one, experience sorrow when I'm disappointed emotionally. Mindfulness -- thoughtfulness -- consideration for each other across the board could really be improved, I think.
So after contemplating expectation, it seems that it should be and ok thing. Why, then, am I so often disappointed that I wish to do away with all of my expectations? Have I been let-down that much in life? Hmph. On so many different levels ... yes, I have. Mostly in my relationships. David always thought my (primarily emotional) expectations of friends and family -- and of him -- were often too high. These expectations mainly involved communication. But I never expected more than I gave and that was the catch. If I did-away with my expectations, I would not offer as much of myself to those I care about. It's the metaphorical "double-edged sword."
Mercifully, though, David was a great communicator. I was talking to a friend about love languages the other night and had a sort of realization. Though David didn't speak my primary love language very well sometimes, he was somewhat fluent in it from a unique angle. He continuously reminded me that he loved me, that he missed me, that he had affection for me -- through various means of contact. He was a bit of a techie, so this meant a continous stream of texts, emails and phone calls -- not only when he was out of town, which was over a third of the time -- but even on days when he was home and one of us was "out." It used to be a joke at church how many texts I would get during Sunday School from David, misbehaving in church, waiting to sing his songs. Though it wasn't conventional "quality time," he never let me forget that he was thinking of me. THAT WAS HUGE. He wouldn't sit in the kitchen with me when I made dinner, or jump in to make the salad. He didn't like going for walks or gardening with me. But he was consistent with the "I love you's" and the "I miss you's" and "Wait 'til I tell you about this crazy lady in the airport's." I miss those texts the most.
But not to divinify the dead ... David knew that withholding that kind of love was a very effective kind of penalty. If we were fighting and phone calls were useless -- ending in angry stalemates -- we would resort to email. If he held-off on a reply, it was excruciating. I was so impatient to hear what his response was to what I had written -- you know, emotional stuff. It could be very painful -- and very frustrating when our communicating was fruitless. That was a very sad circumstance of frequent separations and sometimes emotions could run high -- run rampant -- and our marriage did suffer some from the cumulative postponement of important relationship stuff. Impatience. Frustration. Disappointment. Expectation.
Hope ... expecting good. David was all about hope. He wrote about hope. He talked about hope. He lived hope. He shared hope. But his hope was different from mine, in a way. It's hard to define. He knew he had a home waiting for him up above. But what was his "hope?" I think it was truly to survive; to survive the cancer. My hope was to grow old with him; to some day see the end of the travel and the separation -- to just be. Neither one of us saw those hopes realized.
So what now? I'm the one who's still here ... living. Will I discover my true vocation in the second half of my life? What might that be? Will I maybe love again -- differently -- but deeply? I know that I hope for a growing family to be near. I hope that there will be no more untimely loss. I hope for joy. I hope for the energy to fix the broken things in my home. I hope to return to some of the things that I used to love doing.
I feel impatience while waiting for all of these things to happen, but it's a more seasoned impatience ... one with less frustration and disappointment -- one with expectation of something good: Hope. I went for a run today (walked a lot ...) and was listening to daughter mix 2 on my ipod. Two songs nagged at me about this idea of living fully -- embracing expectation and hope. One was a Phish song and goes, "We want you to be happy, don't live inside the gloom. We want you to be happy, come step outside your room. We want you to be happy 'cause this is your song too."
When I'm up with the sunrise
I want more than just blue skies.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.
I'm not giving up, giving up, not giving up now.
I'm not giving up, giving up, not backing down.
More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok. ~Jon Foreman
How many times have I replied "I'm ok." or "I'm FINE." to the question, "How are you, Leslie?" Ugh. I'm tired of just getting by!! And I've done that pretty well for a long time. So where is the joy? Where is the happiness? Where is the fun?
I'm still waiting. Impatiently. Sometimes frustrated. Sometimes expectant. Often disappointed. Yet, still hopeful. Sigh.
Share HopeEverybody has a different burden
Could be a weight upon your shoulder or a storm inside your head
Everybody's lost a precious angel
Mother, Father, brother daughter, or someone else instead
Everybody's trying to find the reason
Thinking it will help them learn to cope
But the only way anyone gets stronger
Is when they learn to share, Share hope
Hope is not a fragile emotion
It's not a candle burning softly in the night
It's more like a blazing bonfire
Shattering the darkness with its light
Hope is not a sweet and subtle feeling
It's not a whisper trying to find a voice
It's more like a deep resounding chorus
Anyone can sing but you gotta make the choice
Sometimes it takes a little courage
It ain't easy climbing up that slippery slope
But when you finally do and discover it is true You wanna share, hope
It's not a magic pill or a superstitious spell
And it never ever ever stands alone
It's a kind of power that binds us all together
Goes into the jungle and brings you safely home
You can share your supper with the hungry
You can share your money with the poor
You can share your laughter with the lonely
You can share all of this and more
You can share your wisdom with the foolish
You can share your prayers with the Lord above
You can share your faith with the faithless
You can share your joy , yes and you can share your love
No matter who you are, no matter where you go
No matter how you get there, No matter what you know
I’m telling you the truth and it's more than just a dare
The way for us to love is to share, share hope ~david m. bailey
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