Price of (Im)patience - Part I
My friend Jayne once told me that normally she isn't usually a fan personal blogs as they are mainly self-serving; but she likes mine because it's self-deprecating and puts a deeper spin on commonplace thoughts. Mostly, I maintain that. However, the following is self-serving. I release my emotions though writing, and currently, I have a lot of emotions to release. Still, an anal-retentive glutton for chronology, I aim to release said emotions in a neat and tidy series - without hope or expectation, without sympathy or self-pity, and with unrestricted love and honesty.
A strange thing happened when I was landing in DCA Thursday night: I felt like I was home. At the sight of the capitol building, I felt happily at peace in a city where my heart is - close to my parents, my handsome boyfriend, my dance party pup, and my supportive friends. The tall structure I used to call "that monument" stoically shone in the hazy night, and for the first time I felt appreciative. Life is a surprising and beautiful thing when a high strung New Yorker can uncover deeper parts of herself in our Nation's stuffy capital. It's a magical process when the same woman can find peace in a place where peace is rarely lobbied for and mostly just pipe dream. Peace, for me, being a great running route where a flirty blue heron is always happy to see me, wonderful yoga studios, a tribe of inspiring coworkers and shopping with my mom at Bloomingdale's. Sure the service at District restaurants is shitty at best, but I survive through shared complaining and a little thing called patience.
Patience has never come easy to me like writing or shopping for shoes does. Patience is something I have to really work at and be reminded of over and over again. Just when I take one slow beautiful step in the direction of serenity, my flagrant impatience pushes me two paces back. But with awareness, I am consistently moving. As the airplane inched it's way towards the gate, rather than grabbing for my phone or fidgeting with my bag, I stared at the capitol building thinking about my boyfriend who was fast asleep very near there. How beautiful he is when he sleeps. How I wished to be in bed with him. How I couldn't wait to see him the next day.
My boyfriend was instrumental in aiding my patience as he is reasonable and mindful. He calmly and respectfully reminded me when I fell below the patience line and as a result, I started to catch myself earlier. I restrained my desire to scream out loud when he was slowly folding his sweaters or yell from the rooftop in reckless abandon when he slept in and I was AWAKE. Rather, I just laid there staring at his peaceful rest until he woke.
I'm a bit of a creep.
This translated. In line at Whole Foods I was slowly but certainly more serene, using the opportunity to put a smile on someone's face or browse through Real Simple. At yoga, rather than Type A-ing my way through class, I actually breathed. Over the past few months, the most significant people in my life have started to feel more comfortable telling me when my short responses and snappy conclusions were coming from a place of impatience. My mom and my best friend encouraged me to keep my passion but let go of some control. My boyfriend created space for me. My team at work kept me accountable to my word.
While I could be patient with other people, I had (and by had I mean have) much difficulty being patient with myself. When I have an emotion, I need to fling it out into the universe at warp speed A.S.A.P. If I am angry, I must tell someone. If I am wildly excited and impassioned, the world needs to know. My Mediterranean personality means my emotions are heightened several degrees and they burn a hole inside of me if I don't release them.
But our weaknesses are also our strengths. This fiery impatience and constant sense of urgency is the reason I thrive in busy environments. It is why I can motivate a group of people and create efficient methods. It has attractive qualities that lend to success in leadership and the ability to quickly attain measurable results. People are inspired as they are immediately rewarded and praised for their hard work; and I move quickly past people's shortcomings. I can rebound from anything. I easily forgive. It. Is. Beautiful.
Except when it's not. During arguments this looks like a clear and dramatic display of my feelings. I expect the other person to see exactly what I mean and empathize with my side very quickly. Only then can I hear the rebuttal. This method is quite difficult as it requires a high level of self- awareness and being quickly in tune with one's emotions in any given situation. Coupled with the average Joe's humane defense mechanisms and man's natural incapacity for empathy, I end up wanting to blow my brains out and stomping very loudly. I'm 28.
My boyfriend was fully accepting of the duality of my patience. It was what he loved about me, and he aided me in elevating my patience. When I would spout off, he kindly brought me back to planet earth. Super slowly but certainly, I spouted off less often. Unfortunately, it was still too frequent for a man with consistent intentionality. I should have known that couldn't actually last because when my impatience is not beautifully motivating and inspiring, It. Is. Ugly.
As was the case last Friday night...
Emma Dinzebach
A strange thing happened when I was landing in DCA Thursday night: I felt like I was home. At the sight of the capitol building, I felt happily at peace in a city where my heart is - close to my parents, my handsome boyfriend, my dance party pup, and my supportive friends. The tall structure I used to call "that monument" stoically shone in the hazy night, and for the first time I felt appreciative. Life is a surprising and beautiful thing when a high strung New Yorker can uncover deeper parts of herself in our Nation's stuffy capital. It's a magical process when the same woman can find peace in a place where peace is rarely lobbied for and mostly just pipe dream. Peace, for me, being a great running route where a flirty blue heron is always happy to see me, wonderful yoga studios, a tribe of inspiring coworkers and shopping with my mom at Bloomingdale's. Sure the service at District restaurants is shitty at best, but I survive through shared complaining and a little thing called patience.
Patience has never come easy to me like writing or shopping for shoes does. Patience is something I have to really work at and be reminded of over and over again. Just when I take one slow beautiful step in the direction of serenity, my flagrant impatience pushes me two paces back. But with awareness, I am consistently moving. As the airplane inched it's way towards the gate, rather than grabbing for my phone or fidgeting with my bag, I stared at the capitol building thinking about my boyfriend who was fast asleep very near there. How beautiful he is when he sleeps. How I wished to be in bed with him. How I couldn't wait to see him the next day.
My boyfriend was instrumental in aiding my patience as he is reasonable and mindful. He calmly and respectfully reminded me when I fell below the patience line and as a result, I started to catch myself earlier. I restrained my desire to scream out loud when he was slowly folding his sweaters or yell from the rooftop in reckless abandon when he slept in and I was AWAKE. Rather, I just laid there staring at his peaceful rest until he woke. I'm a bit of a creep.
This translated. In line at Whole Foods I was slowly but certainly more serene, using the opportunity to put a smile on someone's face or browse through Real Simple. At yoga, rather than Type A-ing my way through class, I actually breathed. Over the past few months, the most significant people in my life have started to feel more comfortable telling me when my short responses and snappy conclusions were coming from a place of impatience. My mom and my best friend encouraged me to keep my passion but let go of some control. My boyfriend created space for me. My team at work kept me accountable to my word.
While I could be patient with other people, I had (and by had I mean have) much difficulty being patient with myself. When I have an emotion, I need to fling it out into the universe at warp speed A.S.A.P. If I am angry, I must tell someone. If I am wildly excited and impassioned, the world needs to know. My Mediterranean personality means my emotions are heightened several degrees and they burn a hole inside of me if I don't release them.
But our weaknesses are also our strengths. This fiery impatience and constant sense of urgency is the reason I thrive in busy environments. It is why I can motivate a group of people and create efficient methods. It has attractive qualities that lend to success in leadership and the ability to quickly attain measurable results. People are inspired as they are immediately rewarded and praised for their hard work; and I move quickly past people's shortcomings. I can rebound from anything. I easily forgive. It. Is. Beautiful.
Except when it's not. During arguments this looks like a clear and dramatic display of my feelings. I expect the other person to see exactly what I mean and empathize with my side very quickly. Only then can I hear the rebuttal. This method is quite difficult as it requires a high level of self- awareness and being quickly in tune with one's emotions in any given situation. Coupled with the average Joe's humane defense mechanisms and man's natural incapacity for empathy, I end up wanting to blow my brains out and stomping very loudly. I'm 28.
My boyfriend was fully accepting of the duality of my patience. It was what he loved about me, and he aided me in elevating my patience. When I would spout off, he kindly brought me back to planet earth. Super slowly but certainly, I spouted off less often. Unfortunately, it was still too frequent for a man with consistent intentionality. I should have known that couldn't actually last because when my impatience is not beautifully motivating and inspiring, It. Is. Ugly.
As was the case last Friday night...
Emma Dinzebach
Posted by Emma Dinzebach at 8/29/2011 10:51 AM 
Categories: Relationships
Tags: Emma Dinzebach Emma Dilemma impatience DCA motivation incapacity for empahty
Categories: Relationships
Tags: Emma Dinzebach Emma Dilemma impatience DCA motivation incapacity for empahty
Wow, this is well written. You have a fantastic blog.
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