Tiny Buddha

Tag: impatience

  • How I Stopped Worrying About Running Out of Time to Achieve My Goals

    How I Stopped Worrying About Running Out of Time to Achieve My Goals

    “The only thing that is ultimately real about your journey is the step that you are taking at this moment. That’s all there ever is.” ~Alan Watts

    One thing that is promised to each one of us in life is death. No one will avoid dying or feeling the pain of losing others. From a young age I remember being aware of this fact, and it scared me.

    As I got older, I began to feel a sense of pressure that I was running out of time and loss was imminent. The thought of losing my loved ones and the uncertainty of what may happen worried me. I wanted to avoid the feelings of loss and limitation, so I unconsciously began to move faster.

    There was a deep fear that if things didn’t happen fast, they would not happen at all and that I wouldn’t have enough time.

    Faster became better, and I started the hamster race of working hard to achieve my dreams. Whether that was finishing school, starting a career, being in a healthy relationship, starting a family, being fit… even my spiritual journey became a race to happiness that only existed in the future!

    I realized later in life that this mindset was born out of fear—the fear of loss, the fear of the unknown—and protection from these fears was a quick accomplishment. It created an immense amount of stress and suffering because all goals and dreams take time to build.

    I believed sooner was better, and if it wasn’t fast then it wasn’t happening at all. I began to find reasons for why it wasn’t happening—that I was not good enough, life was unfair and hard, and it was not possible for me. Each time I repeated these limiting beliefs, I took one step away from my dreams and developed more anxiety.

    This led to a cycle of starting, quitting, and then searching for something different. I would garner the courage to start something new only to fall flat on my face when it didn’t happen. The cycle of shame would repeat, impacting my mental health and my ability to move forward.

    I wanted to see proof that I was achieving my goals and searched for tangible evidence to feel good while simultaneously ignoring all the wonderful things that were right before my eyes. Like living near the ocean, spending time with my loved ones, talking walks along the coast, having meaningful conversations with friends, and enjoying moments of quiet with my favorite cup of coffee. These mean so much to me now.

    I wanted the degree, the paycheck, the happy photo of me surrounded by friends, rather than the silence of uncertainty and the impatience I felt in the present. My fear of time took away the only real time that existed, the now.

    When I slowed down and paused, I realized that I had experienced so much growth and expansion in all the years I’d thought I was wasting time. Every roadblock had challenged me to change. In fact, my anxiety, fear, and disappointment around my slow progress led me inward to heal my relationship with time.

    Though many of my dreams did come true, I was only able to recognize them when I slowed down and let go of the “when.”

    I was able to achieve this by practicing meditation, breathwork, and awareness. With time and consistency, the present moment became filled with color, and its beauty swept me away from the ticking time bomb of the future. I began to enjoy each step of my journey, whether it was the beginning or end.

    With the gift of hindsight, I can see that it is not about the “when” but about the “what.” What I’m doing right now in the present. The number of negative and limiting beliefs I placed upon myself and the shame I felt were due to an emphasis on always “thinking forward,” and a lack of being with myself in the present.

    The truth is when we let go of our misconceptions of time and follow our dreams patiently, we see that time is not against us; the process is a necessary part of our journey.

    The time it takes to reach our goals is not empty; it is filled with learning and unlearning so that we find ourselves. In the end it is not the achievement that leads to freedom, but the wisdom that comes from living life.

    If we make the present moment our friend rather than our foe, we can experience and appreciate our present journey rather than focusing on our arrival.

  • Dealing With Uncertainty: When You Don’t Know What to Do Next

    Dealing With Uncertainty: When You Don’t Know What to Do Next

    “Your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer.” ~William S. Burroughs

    There’s a lot of advice out there that tells us when to let go of something and make a change in our lives, as if moving on were as simple as your brain notifying your hand to loosen it’s grip and release a balloon in the air.

    But when it comes to grappling with your heart and soul, it’s not such an easy thing to do. You cannot choose to amputate your feelings on a moment’s notice.

    Maybe you’re sitting in a place of uncertainty for what you should do next. Perhaps you didn’t get closure on what happened in a relationship or you don’t understand what the lesson is that you’re supposed to learn from a situation. Whatever it may be, some part of your life is confusing.

    I too have been going through a period of ambiguity, both personally and professionally, as I have been in a career transition that’s taking much longer than I expected, and I had a heartbreaking romantic relationship abruptly end.

    Having both of these things occurring simultaneously has been intense, and it’s left me questioning my capabilities and how I got myself into these circumstances.

    These are things I’ve gathered from thought leaders, spiritual teachers, books, and friends that have helped me to find some solace in the meantime:

    Surrender the internal battle.

    You probably have a long list of logical reasons for what you should do, or feel, about where you are. In an attempt to make yourself believe this rationale, you repeat them over and over.

    You think, “This person is selfish and immature, so I should dump them.” Or, “This company doesn’t value me, so I should quit.” Yet, for some reason you just can’t make the conviction stick enough to take that next step. Stop fighting with yourself. This a sign that it’s not your truth right now.

    What’s the rush?

    Having doubts is a sign that your heart and mind are in conflict.

    If you’re in a physical or emotionally abusive situation, obviously you need to make a more immediate decision for your well-being. But if your circumstances allow for you to have the option to stay put, you should. Try to stop flicking the problem with questions and more analyzing. Your intellect, creativity, and ability to reason have not failed you.

    Lao Tzu wrote, “Trying to understand is like straining through muddy water. Have the patience to wait! Be still and allow the mud to settle.” We usually feel agitated and unstable when we’re unclear, and if we’re not conscious of it, we can push ourselves to make a rash decision that may not be the best option.

    Drop the judgment.

    Telling yourself you’re “crazy,” “foolish,” or “something is wrong with me” for being indecisive is mean. Punishing your emotions by ridiculing them will not make them go away any faster or help you to hurry up to make a decision.

    When you work to try to change your feelings, you’re going against a natural part of you, which causes more pain and stress. Be kind to yourself. Just honor them as a piece of you that needs loving compassion and allow for them to be there.

    Trust the process.

    Try to have faith that whatever you’re experiencing right now will ultimately be for your highest good, and that whenever you receive the right information, it will be the perfect time.

    The only certainty we have is change. While you may be suffering now, that too will transform. In Kinesiology, it is well-known that when building muscle tissue, for either flexibility or strength, tiny tears occur in the process. So too do our emotions. Sometimes they have to rip apart to grow and expand.

    You’re going to be done when you’re done.

    Just because someone tells you it’s time to move on, that doesn’t mean that you should. Trying to force yourself to let go before you’re ready to could mean you may have some regret later and you’re the only one who would have to live with that, not the other person who’s doling out the advice.

    Find other examples in your past when you’ve known exactly when the right time was to make a change. You’ll have that certainty again.

    Get busy.

    What else do you want in your life? Focus on what you are certain of and start working on it. Whether it’s going to the gym more, cooking healthier meals, or organizing your living space, find a project that will improve another aspect of your vitality.

    By distracting your attention, you’re cultivating positive energy rather than stagnating on something that is beyond your control. The more happiness you create, the more you’ll attract.

    Being in a place of uncertainty can feel like a difficult, scary place to be in, but it’s a sign that you’re going through a transition. And in this odyssey that is life, it’s a normal phase of any journey of inner evolution.

    Let the unfolding happen with the greatest comfort and care that you would with any birth. This is a gestation into your new self.

  • The Root of All Your Problems

    The Root of All Your Problems

    The Root of All Your Problems

    Source: Live Life Happy

  • Working on Impatience and Appreciating Its Gifts

    Working on Impatience and Appreciating Its Gifts

    Man Running

    “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” ~Marcel Proust  

    It’s taken me a while, but I have finally learned to appreciate aspects of my own impatience.

    For a long time I did not like this quality about myself. I am still working on becoming more patient, because impatience and I go way back.

    I was impatient to get out of high school, so I fast tracked that whole experience.

    I was impatient to get working, so I started working when I was fourteen.

    I was impatient to finish university, so I rushed through it, while working up to thirty-five hours a week, not stopping to enjoy myself or have fun.

    My daughter was impatient to be born, so she came early, and so did my son.

    I wanted to move up the corporate ladder fast, so I sprinted and pushed and worked all kinds of crazy hours that come with being in the world of technology consulting for a global fortune 500 organization.

    And then I got sick.

    My body got tired of me pushing, and shoving, and not pausing even for a second to pay attention to its cries for help. Illness forced me to stop everything and pare my life down to the basics.

    I got diagnosed with some fancy labels like chronic fatigue syndrome, depression, fibromyalgia, and eventually an even fancier label, PTSD.

    Even getting dressed and making my kids meals felt like climbing Mount Everest.

    I let shame take over for a little while, and I hid from the world, the career I had worked so hard to build, my family, and even my kids; hiding in bed while they were at school and haphazardly pulling myself together before they came home.

    After a few months, my own innate personality started to come through and my impatience reared its head out of the fatigue, depression, and piles of laundry.

    I wanted my life back. I was not going to write off my future in my early thirties, and be resigned to my couch and bed, while my children were waiting for their tired mother to wake up and play.

    I got myself into therapy. I wanted no part of taking drugs. It was a personal choice that to this day, I don’t regret. It’s not for everyone. It felt right for me.

    I worked with therapists, healers, and naturopathic/homeopathic doctors; I tried Chinese medicine, acupuncture, all kinds of massage and bodywork and energy treatments, and spent thousands of dollars on nutritional supplements and testing.

    I worked with shamans and took trips to silent retreats, meditated, wrote, drew and doodled in my journal, danced to 5Rhythms, moved with hula hoops and even travelled to the Amazon looking for answers.

    The thing is, during much this time, I felt a huge amount of shame for my impatience. My healer/teacher/therapist and every other practitioner would smile with understanding for my impatience to get healthy and feel better.

    They would urge me to be patient and encourage me to honor the timing of my own body.

    They were right. I knew this, too. But the rational part of me wasn’t always the one in charge.

    I often felt like time was running out. I had a life to get back to, and it was passing me by every day that I lacked the energy and the mental clarity to fully live it. The body aches and pains and other physical discomforts didn’t make it any easier either.

    Eventually, the wiser part of me got it.

    Our body does have its own wisdom. It does speak, and we need to pause to listen in order to learn the language that each of our own bodies uses to speak to us. And this is not something that would have typically been taught to us while we were in school.

    While it’s wise to work on our impatience, we can simultaneously appreciate its gifts.

    The biggest gift I received by working with my impatience was perseverance. I didn’t give up. I continued to search for answers to my health conditions. I was obsessed with wanting to know the answers to my many questions. Why did I get sick? What was the root cause? Why did my body start to shut down on me?

    Impatience gave me the drive to keep going, even when it felt like I wasn’t making much progress.

    And impatience gave me hope. Each time I felt like I was taking one step forward, to be brought back ten, I would explore new healing options and get excited about the possibility of it working.

    I used to beat myself up for being impatient with myself, for how long it was all taking, and for finding it difficult to sit and meditate. I wished so many times that I could be more Zen-like and graceful in the way I met my health challenges.

    Many times sitting across therapists and healers and other wise people I had hired to be on my healing team, I would feel like that squirmy little kid in class. You know, the one who sat constantly moving in their seat, waving their hands about the air, hardly able to contain themselves because they had so much to say.

    I was that kid in an adult’s body. I wanted my healing team to know everything I was doing. I wanted them to know everything that I knew, had tried, and discovered so that that there would be no wasting time. All they had to do was tell me what I needed to do next, and I would get on it.

    Seven years later, I’m now better. I don’t identify myself through those same labels I was once diagnosed with. I have learned to tune in and listen to my body, and navigate my inner world and some dark alleys that I never knew existed.

    Through this process, I have transformed my wounds into wisdom, discovered my life’s purpose, and continue to use the insights to course correct, and live my life making conscious choices as best I can.

    I am grateful for the role that impatience played in my journey from illness to wellness. I am enjoying my second chance at life with my children, and doing my best to be a present mother. I am teaching my children these same tools of awareness and self-regulation by the way that I meet life, them, and myself.

    Though I could have done without the restlessness, I truly believe that without the persistence that resulted from my impatience, I might still be lying on a couch in my living room, napping.

    So, here’s my invitation to you: If you are like me and have been beating yourself up over your impatience, take some time to review how your impatience has helped you in your life.

    How has your impatience been a friend or a blessing?

    How has it allowed you not to give up when you desperately wanted to?

    How did it help you to not take ambiguity or “no” for an answer, and propel you to find your own truth?

    You might be surprised and grateful at what you discover!

    Man running via Shutterstock

  • Some Things Take Time: Slow Down and Stop Pushing

    Some Things Take Time: Slow Down and Stop Pushing

    Silence and Stillness

    “Smile, breathe, and go slowly.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    As life speeds up, as we check our phones and Twitter feeds for instant gratification, as we seek out another spiritual practice in the promise of evolving even faster, we have lost sight of something quite fundamental.

    Some things just take time. This can apply to relationships, business, and, in my experience, it especially applies to spiritual awakening.

    Yes, our practices such as meditation, dance, service, and energy work can support us on our soul journey. But rushing our development can even result in us taking one step forward and two steps back.

    And, most importantly, it will likely just happen anyway—if we get out of the way and allow it.

    I know this firsthand.

    When I felt the call to start developing my spiritual practice, the quirks of my overachieving personality took center stage. I quickly found out that there were sankharas to pluck out, energy centers to unblock, past life traumas to heal, and old soul contracts to wrap up.

    And I wanted this all sorted out ASAP, thanks.

    So I went from an occasional meditation practice to spending upward of two hours on the cushion every day, and chanted several times a week.

    I spent every single spare moment practicing and developing my newfound energetic skills. I declined social invitations so that I could concentrate totally on the latest text that had fallen into my hands.

    I don’t regret any of this. I learned a lot and it was my path.

    But after a couple of years, I realized that my approach to my practice was perhaps a bit obsessive; that it could just be another manifestation of the way that I had been living before “waking up,” as I had termed it.

    I thought that if I threw all my might at my spiritual evolution, then I might master this new way of being more quickly, and more effectively. Yet under the guise of spirituality, I was just playing out my old patterns.

    The result? I was increasingly ungrounded. I spent days feeling totally knocked around by major energetic “clearings.”

    I was slowing myself down, or at least not really assisting the flow of what wanted to move through me. And I was just as over-the-top about succeeding as ever, this time, at my practice rather than in my career.

    I eventually realized that spiritual evolution is not like a report or book that you can write faster if you stay up late. You can’t force this type of evolution. It’s not the type of thing that you can control.

    This type of evolution is perfect. It’s like a delicate flower, which unfolds at its own pace, to the rhythm of its own internal clock.

    I came to this gradual realization, surprisingly, while pursuing a doctorate in women’s well-being and justice after violence.

    This involved deconstructing everything I knew—being prepared to ask the hard questions and receive the answers; asking some big questions of myself, too, and being prepared to hear the answers.

    It really involved a deepening of my understanding of myself and my spiritual practice. I started to appreciate which of my old patterns I had been inadvertently repeating, and which of my tendencies were actually not serving me.

    The doctoral process also taught me how to play the long game and how to let go—working alone every day and inching along with my ideas; waiting for months, sometimes, to receive any feedback from my supervisors; spending months and months writing thousands of beautifully edited, referenced words that never made it into the final product.

    Now, there are much less resource-intensive ways to learn this than through pursuing an advanced degree. Just bringing your awareness and being honest about whether you are playing out your existing patterns is the first step.

    And if you notice that you have a tendency to rush your process, make the decision to slow down. Once you realize that the timing of your expansion, or growth, or awareness is perfect, you will relax.

    When you fully internalize that the journey is just as important as the destination, you’ll know that you’re on the right path.

    In relaxing, and in getting out of my own way, I’m much more receptive. I don’t worry about how long things will take. I trust that it will all happen perfectly.

    I don’t push as hard now, and yet more opportunities seem to fall into my lap. My creativity flows. My life is much more fun. And my experiential understanding and my practices continue to deepen.

    It’s actually quite magical.

    Life becomes easier and far more fulfilling when we slow down and let things happen instead of pushing ourselves to make things happen.

    Photo by Lisa Omarali

  • When You’re Frustrated by a Delay: 8 Reasons to Appreciate It

    When You’re Frustrated by a Delay: 8 Reasons to Appreciate It

    Waiting

    “All great achievements require time.” ~Maya Angelou

    We all have a picture of what we want in our heads.

    We get attached to a timeline for achieving it. We fantasize about the results and how it will bring us happiness.

    We begin to work hard to attain it.

    But when we don’t get it right away, we get frustrated. We want things to move as quickly as possible.

    If we want a relationship, we want to find our perfect partner as soon as we can. If we’re building a career or a business, we want success in months. If we want to master a skill, we expect to get good after several weeks.

    Right now, I’m in this in-between stage.

    I’m in between getting my dream off the ground and where I want it to be. Because my dream hasn’t materialized yet, there are days where I lose motivation, because deep down I feel that if it’s not happening yet then maybe it isn’t for me.

    I hate waiting; I hate this grey area zone that I’m in.

    I want the results now. I want the validation. I want to make sure that I’m not wasting time and that what I’m doing means something.

    But I’m learning that it doesn’t work like that.

    When we resist this period of time, it creates a lot of anxiety, but if we look closer we may find that the delay actually contains great lessons for us.

    I’ve been trying to live a more intentional life of happiness and meaning. But the anxiety I’m feeling doesn’t align with what I say I want—and it’s not even getting me closer to it. In fact, I’m creating more delay. I procrastinate, I resist, and I sulk.

    So I’ve made a conscious decision to understand the lessons.

    It was difficult at first, especially since I felt that “must have it now” feeling. The last thing I wanted to hear was that I needed to wait some more. I resisted this because I deluded myself into thinking that if I ignored it, perhaps things would move along at a faster speed.

    But over time, as the lessons got clearer, I got more inner peace and reassurance that things are moving at the right time.

    What can we learn from delays?

    1. A delay is an opportunity to let go of attachment to outcomes.

    When we let go of our attachment to specific outcomes, we’re better able to concentrate on our craft.

    This is something to appreciate, because what happens if the result isn’t what you imagined it to be? Will you stop creating? Will you stop working on your passion?

    2. A delay can help us realize how badly we want it.

    Do you want it badly enough to keep working at it despite not getting the immediate result you want?

    3. A delay can help us build a stronger foundation.

    It prepares us and helps us develop our muscles.

    Get better at your craft. Figure out ways you can better use it to serve others.

    We practice and learn during this waiting period so that when the time comes, we are equipped to handle it better.

    4. A delay can teach us to think outside the box.

    When our way is not working and we’re cornered, it can force us to come up with new ideas and new ways of doing things.

    5. A delay can teach us to accept that anything worthwhile takes time.

    It takes time for things to grow. It takes time to build trust. It takes time to build anything.

    The sooner we get this, the sooner we’ll free ourselves from anxiety, and the faster we’ll focus on doing what we need to do.

    6. A delay can teach us to be productive while waiting.

    When we’re able to accept that some things are out of our control and that things don’t always happen as fast as we’d like them to, we’re better able to be productive, since we’re not overwhelmed and distracted by fear and anxiety.

    7. A delay can teach us to acknowledge and appreciate progress.

    With conscious effort, I am able to see my accomplishments and all the progress I have made so far instead of discounting it just because I’m not yet where I want to be.

    This is important because it’s removed the resistance that kept me from doing the work I needed to do; plus, I feel more fulfilled.

    8. A delay can teach us to be grateful for what we will receive.

    Because I have put in my sweat and tears in starting my dream from the ground up, I will make sure I will do whatever it takes to nurture it and not take it for granted.

    —

    A delay it not a denial. Just because something isn’t happening now, that doesn’t mean it’s not for us.

    I still get impatient but it’s getting easier, because I know that a delay can serve a greater purpose, and our greatest good.

    So, if you’re going through a tough time right now and something isn’t quite materializing yet, hang in there. Find reassurance in knowing that a delay can actually benefit you.

    You may not see it now, but hold on to this faith. This will help you find inner peace and enable you to keep taking action so you can get closer to what it is you want.

    Photo by Luz Adriana Villa

  • When You’re Anxious to Finish: Being Patient with Your Passions

    When You’re Anxious to Finish: Being Patient with Your Passions

    Man and Mountain

    “Patience is passion tamed.”~Lyman Abbott

    It was 2:13am. My skin stuck to the bed sheets as I realized I was lying awake, listening to my belabored heartbeat. This was the first physical anxiety attack I had ever experienced—one that I hope won’t be repeated. And it happened only two nights ago.

    Apparently, the past two years have been more intense than I realized. It’s quite obvious, really, when you see that I’ve failed to write much, for Tiny Buddha or my own blog, in that time.

    I wish I could say that I’ve been too busy accomplishing goals, or have taken the years to learn new skills, but I’m afraid all these symptoms stem from a rather incurable demon. I’m writing, of course, about impatience and its power to delay.

    Impatience is invisible in that it can easily be misinterpreted as ambition, which creates an even greater problem.

    Where, on one hand, I may be more driven to take on more projects, on the other, I am led to a mess wherein very little gets done. Sure, I may have many things that I am passionate about, but this zeal is what in turn creates a false ambition, an impatience to do simply much more than I can handle.

    But what is impatience; or rather, what is patience?

    I’ve always liked the idea that the sense of urgency was passion in action—that it was a good practice to urge myself to write an essay, hustle in freelance video editing, or go off and create my own indie game in an attempt to join a new dimension of storytelling.

    So patience, then, isn’t a matter of doing less but rather the mastery of juggling, right?

    Well, after trying to calm myself in a physical fit of impatience boiled over, I’ve begun to think otherwise.

    Lately, I’ve been listening a lot to Alan Watts’ recorded lectures from his teaching years while based out of San Francisco.

    He spoke a great deal about eastern spirituality, Buddhism, contemporary mysticism, and all those curious, philosophical nonsensities that usually weird out those unfamiliar with the subject matter.

    But what really strikes me is his take on controlled anarchy—the biological organism in which the parts harmoniously create the sum with no boss in charge.

    For instance, in sculpting, it is often understood that the artist imposes his will upon the clay, thus the art of making a sculpture is simply the mastery of manipulation. But, as Watts was found to point out, the most beautiful art comes from the chaos of life itself.

    In fact, there was one such occasion documented publicly in the form of a sculpting contest that Watts mentioned in several of his lectures.

    The contest didn’t award the first prize to the sculpture that was most masterfully willed out of the clay by its creator. First place went to a young woman who took the clay, smashed it on the floor, and kicked it around until she realized what it was “trying to be,” afterward, simply carving out the pieces that she thought weren’t supposed to be there.

    This, in turn, created a wonderfully random, and thus beautiful, piece of modern art. So it is with the rest of life; after all, did you plan on growing your beautiful eyes, or did it just happen?

    Passion, then, is the artistic beast within us all, vying to get into the world in sheer, ferocious eagerness. Patience is the way to let it out calmly and in great mastery.

    If you draw, do you draw the whole drawing at once? If you sing, do you sing all the notes in one breath? And if you dance, do you perform all the steps in one beat?

    Of course not. You let it out one bit at a time.

    So how can one be a patient master of their zealous passions? When faced with impatience, there is only one thing to do: allow it.

    If we remain patient with impatience, we’ll find ourselves in that calm space where amazingly creative things can happen, just like that young woman who sculpted her clay into what it “wanted to be.”

    Ralph Steadman isn’t able to create his popularized depictions of grotesque or bizarre ink drawings when he’s so adamantly trying to come up with his next piece. It is only after he splatters ink for some time that he realizes what is coming forth from the blots, and then he applies the finishing touches.

    This is the greatest level of mastery to reach in our lives, this art of patience. I know more and more each day that I will achieve my goals in due time, and that to push myself may not always be the best way to remain productively creative.

    Pushing yourself can be hard on both the mind and body and will only lead to the opposite effect of urgent production—anxiety-ridden self-destruction.

    I like to relate patience to the stability of a mountain. A mountain does not strain itself to keep from crumbling to the ground; it just happens that it does not fall and thus makes a mountain.

    We are like mountains. Our hearts beat, our cells fade and regrow, and our minds create tides of thoughts and hopes and dreams. But, like a mountain, we happen all at once without our conscious minds telling us to act.

    I mean, is it you who tells your heart, “Beat, beat, beat, or else we’ll die!” Of course not. It just happens. And so it is when you find yourself trying to beat impatience out of your mind that you’ll only grow more impatient.

    Thus, be like mountains, not like your conscious and incessant flow of thoughts and anxieties. Let them go. And before you take another step toward anything, just breathe and let your next action happen as naturally as your breath.

    As I said earlier, impatience is invisible in its cleverness to disguise and deceive, but this is only because we believe we can impose our wills directly upon the world. That’s a stressful way to attempt to work toward our goals.

    If we keep the goal in the back of our mind and focus on the step in front of us, the rest will flow like a river.

    Mastery, then, is the effortless patience that pulls passion into the world naturally like rain falling from a thundercloud. All we need to do is stop fighting ourselves and let it happen.

    Photo by Moyan Brenn

  • Being Patient through Transformation: Trust, Change, Believe

    Being Patient through Transformation: Trust, Change, Believe

    “We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.” ~Charles R. Swindoll

    Ever noticed a chrysalis hidden within its cocoon? The final few moments before it emerges as a butterfly compose what science terms as metamorphosis, a transformation.

    If you have been lucky enough to observe this process, which I highly recommend watching, you’d notice it has to struggle quite a bit before it gets all the attention for being the magnificent creature it is.

    It’s long and painful. However, while watching it, you may be tempted to clip off the outer covering of the chrysalis with a pair of scissors. And you might do it, thinking you’re doing it a favor. But when it finally emerges, you’d be sorely disappointed.

    The chrysalis’ covering holds within its shell vital fluids that are important to its wing formation. But your act of kindness, of clipping that outer shell deprives it of that, and as a result, the butterfly that emerges is crippled, deformed, and nothing like the butterfly it was supposed to be.

    On the other hand, if you can muster up the patience to watch this metamorphosis take place, without any intervention from your side, you’ll see one of the most beautiful miracles of nature, and one of life’s best lessons.

    Our lives are journeys to this same type of metamorphosis, to find a sense of purpose in life. We cannot achieve this without the difficult situations or the pain that life often brings in generous doses.

    Each one of us has had to let go of a dream, compromise, and experience pain and the entire gamut of emotions that an undesirable change can bring. But by no means did it ever spell the end of all dreams.

    I graduated from law school with big dreams to help the world, to fight for justice, and to make a difference with my education, because I considered myself fortunate to have had an academic training— unlike the millions of other kids who haven’t had a chance to study at all.

    I joined the non-profit sector with high hopes and zero expectations of financial rewards, because all I wanted was to make a difference. But life had other plans, as it always does.

    Eight months down the line, I quit my job over the lack of work ethics. I couldn’t stand to compromise my principles, or to allow myself to be manipulated for what I held to be good and true. That was the end of a long cherished dream. It was a difficult decision because it certainly didn’t look good on a resume! (more…)