I walked home from work the other day. It's a good hour and a half walk if I take the scenic route, which I did. Yes, it was tiring, but not nearly as tiring as I thought it might be. It might have been made easier by the fact that I didn't really have to be home at a particular time, and by the fact that it was a pretty nice day: a tad chilly (but my Copycat Cardigan took care of that), but bright and sunny.
The first part of the walk started on the busy driveway at my place of work: lots of people driving home after a long day, some people stopping to ask me if I needed a lift. "No, no lift, thank you," I said. Then, after the driveway is a short walk along the single lane highway (I walk facing the traffic, just to be sure), and it's not long before I reach the crosswalk which brings me onto the nature path.
The walk was good exercise, not only for my body, but for my patience. I like to believe I'm a relatively patient person (heck, it takes me weeks to knit things sometimes), but I know that I'm not that patient in certain parts of my life. I want to get places. When I move, I want to get somewhere, and get there in good time. Walking an hour an a half anywhere is not that efficient, nor is it quick. It is simply walking for the sake of walking.
I rationalized the walk as I went along. We'll call this section, Stage 2: The river walk, I thought to myself as I walked along the path, the river to my right. Relax your jaws, your eyes, your ears, I said to myself, echoing the instructor on my yoga DVD. I have a tendency to clench my jaws when I'm walking on my own, thinking more about getting to the destination. You'll get there, I said. Don't damage yourself while doing so.
I met my husband and my doggie on the way, and we walked the last 20 minutes or so together. I got home, and was pleasantly surprised to feel tired, but not exhausted, and I was quite proud of myself for doing it.
Patience is worth cultivating in all areas of my life. Brian, at Brian Knits wrote a blog post about how knitting is an act of patience and persistence, and I quite agree. Perhaps this is why I am so drawn to it: I am not as patient as I could be with people, my family, and with some of the circumstances that surround me, but I feel that it's easier to be patient with my own hands, and with my own energies. This is not a recent realization, but it is certainly something that has really bubbled up to the surface for me, and I want to change. I want to be the person who, instead of wearing annoyance on my face when things aren't going according to plan, can laugh it off, shrug my shoulders, and accept that this is the way life is.
I watched a wonderful video last night on YouTube about being the person who awakens possibility in other people. (That part is near the end of the video, if you're impatient *wink*).
Who am I being that the people around me are uninspired? Can I wait and see and expect the best around me? Can I hold off with the impatience and push forward the understanding? Can I bring the patience that I practice out of my needles and into the rest of my life?
Sure I can. I think I should. I think it will be hard work, but if I can spend ninety minutes cultivating patience through one activity, then it is possible.
We had a day of wet snow today. Spring is shaking off the last of the winter storms, and we awoke to a white, soggy sheet of snow blanketing the land around us. I sighed. Then, I shook it off and realized that my irises will be peeking out even more this time next week, and that we live in an area that is usually crisp and dry and thirsty for moisture. There will be time enough for days of hot, dry sunshine. It will come.
And so will my patience. It's got to, don't you think?