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3.28.2012

on the virtue of patience. and talking to myself.


I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, which is how I knew I had to.

Put on your new spring shoes, I commanded. Grab that new mug off the shelf.

Let’s get out of the apartment. Change of scene. Change of pace.

So I put on my go-to blouse (the one that I now where a good four days out of seven), used just enough concealer to make those under-eye circles less alarming (not by much), and grabbed my glasses (yup, I need those now), the new mug, and the computer.

Off. Go. Down the stairs. And to the coffee shop.

And just sit. If nothing else sit with the coffee and listen. And be okay with that.   

Life has been… funky lately.

So much waiting.

Right now as I sit inside the cafĂ©, I can sense that I’m waiting for rain. How quickly the waiting becomes longing becomes needing and I need—need—the rain.

Change of pace. Change of page.

I wandered into the kitchen last night (there’s been quite a bit of wandering lately) and this lovely boy who’s just recently move in said, oh man you’re going through it, aren’t you?

I am? I am. How do you know I am?

I can just sense that big life changes are happening right now.

They are? They are. Yes, they are!

 But between the big life changes is a lot of wandering. And waiting.

I am in a debt of gratitude to that lovely boy. It’s nice to be seen—to feel like you’ve really been seen, without saying too much or revealing too much, just by existing in space, to have someone sense the shifting of your makeup…I owe him much for that. 

There’s this move—I’m waiting on that. For that. The living by one’s self. The open arms to a part of New York that is totally new and totally unknown. A new train. A new coffee shop. New neighbors.

There is the attempt to answer some of those big life questions—the grabbing life by its wiggly, wily little tail, and the exclamation: Fine! You will not reveal the answer to my questions? Fine, I will answer them myself.

Or, better yet, I will move forward as though the answer to everything is yes!

Yes, yes, yes, I say—I exclaim.

Though, I then must remind myself: Be patient Meg (yup, I’ve even begun using my own name when talking to myself—this is a first). Things do not always change immediately. Overnight is not a promise. Be patient and be kind and work hard and take some time, if you must. And wander, if you must. But say yes. 

Be patient with knowing that much as you try to answer, most things are still unknown.


You see, I know patience is a virtue, it is just not my virtue.

I had my tarot cards read recently. Halfway through, the reader peered up at me from under her dark, taut curls: You’re giving up on love, aren’t you?

I am not! I balked. If anyone believes in love, it is me. If anyone is a hopeless romantic or a hopeless optimist in matters of the heart, it is me. But now these many weeks later, I cringe to admit that she is right. Though I don’t know that I’m giving up on love so much as giving up on the person who for so long defined love for me.

Or maybe it’s that I’m giving up on the timing of love. And giving up on the timing of it might be just as bad. Worse, even?

Be patient with yourself. Be patient with love. Be patient with a timeline that is not yours to define or to know or to wrangle into place. Let go. Loosen your grip.

I have a girlfriend who is unreasonably beautiful—Charlize Theron beautiful. With a body to prove it. A woman’s body—this perfect shape with the legs of a dancer and the gentle, supple curve of hips. I can’t wear white jeans she says. I’ll never be able to wear white jeans. I understand this statement but adamantly disagree with it. If anyone can or could or would or should wear white jeans it is her. But I understand the feeling of that--the I-don’t-feel-confident-enough-to wear-them. Me either. But I want to. Be patient in your quest for white jeans, I tell myself, which really means:  Be patient in your quest for health. Be patient in the discovery--what works and what does not. Be patient.  

It's still not raining. But I can sense it is near and I best run home before it begins--I have a feeling that the sky will not open slowly, but in one startling release. And my latte's nearly done.

Hey Meg? The story doesn't have to come all at once. And sometimes you'll write something entirely different than what you planned. Circuitous doesn't mean flawed. Be patient. Say yes. And don't give up. 

25 comments:

Mae said...

Thank you for this post! I feel as if you're speaking to me. Be patient. Yes! We must.

I especially love this: "Be patient with yourself. Be patient with love. Be patient with a timeline that is not yours to define or to know or to wrangle into place. Let go. Loosen your grip."

I love that!

And a little confession? I ran into your blog awhile back ... but just recently followed. And recently, I've been reading your old posts, and I realized, you're living my dream. The dream that I didn't have the courage at your age to go after. So, without sounding too presumptuous, embrace it! Be proud of you.

I love your writing! I love your voice. :)

Ju* said...

Such a lovely post, Meg!
Your writing is beautiful.
I kind of know how you feel - I'm so not a patient person, either, and I have to remind myself that some things will happen when they do, and that I have to be patient.
I, too, talk to myself and say my own name - feels good and strange at the same time.
I hope you stay patient with your life and please never give up!!!!
You' re such an inspiration to your blogreaders!!!
Ju*

Carrie Rosalind said...

Very inspiring post that really hit me today. I am trying to let go of the timing of love but it's so hard when I just want it NOW! Good luck letting go!

Natalie said...

i love this. i love everything about this.

sharlyn emily said...

Lady, sometimes I think we may share the same soul. Or at least, parts of our souls match. Yes, that's it. Parts of our souls match. I feel the exact same way about white jeans. AND I'm moving in a month. AND life chances are happening. AND there is a boy who recently came into my life who "sees me" much the same way. crazy similar. p.s. I adore this (and you)

Alissa said...

I'm filing "I don’t know that I’m giving up on love so much as giving up on the person who for so long defined love for me," away in my 'quotes i love' page. Fantastic. Beautiful. Thank you.

off switch said...

omg, meg. this was beautiful. you know, i've had an opinion on the subject of talking to myself and what it means to me personally...haven't been up to sharing it just yet on the blog, but i think i will now. keep being open to the good life gives you, lady. xo.

ANH Style said...

This is beautifully hopeful. Thank you for sharing.

Captain Serenity said...

I have had to force myself, in the depths of a great loss, not to give up on love, for that is all I truly am, but it was excruciatingly painful to reach to the very core of my being and draw out the beauty of loving again. Your writing is so inspiring. I was in Louisville over the weekend with my daughter and got a call Sunday morning that the speaker at Unity was rushed to the hospital and would I fill in? So I did. The talk ended with these words: "This is your becoming, you are the miracle." Thanks.

heatherhxo said...

This is exactly what I needed to read today. And I do hope your answers start coming to you, but when they need to and when you're ready. Nothing rushed. :)

Ashlee Green said...

May I share a quote with you? You may have heard it before, but it's one that has helped me move forward when I feel frozen in place with all that is unanswered and unfulfilled.

“I beg you . . . to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without ever noticing it, live your way into the answer . . .” Rainer Maria Rilke

My favorite part:
"The point is to live everything. Live the questions now."

I think you are so brave to share with what scares and challenges you. I think perhaps you are living several questions now. I believe in you. I believe you can live the questions just as gracefully as you live the answers. I believe it because you are a truth seeker, and you recognize that no truth comes without inquiry first. You will find your way into the answers, and you will look back on these days of questioning with gratitude.

Meghan said...

Or, better yet, I will move forward as though the answer to everything is yes! <-----love that


yess! thanks meg!

Alexa said...

for me, today, this week, even, you got it just right. thank you, thank you, thank you for this!

annelise said...

I am mid-funk also. I wrote a post about it, somewhat dramatically calling it my existential crisis. I like a flair for the dramatics every now and then, but this feeling I could do without now. I feel like I've been patient with the love (seven years of singledom? Surely that's patient enough, right?) and even though I refuse to give up the thought, sometimes doubt creeps in. It's good to be reminded with posts like this. x

nancy said...

oh, I don't think I've ever related to another one of your posts as much as this one (and that's saying something!).
I, too, am waiting. waiting to travel through South America and the USA in just a few short weeks. I've started needing the change of pace - the new scenes, the exploration of a different country with different cultures.
I am also impatient. not just for this trip, but for life. I want to see it all played out in front of me - degree, job, marriage, travel, babies... and I want it right now. or, at least, that's what I tell myself I want.

best of luck with the patience and the waiting... I'll channel you the next time I'm feeling it.

I hope you thanked that lovely boy. :)

jorjiapeach said...

your blog's like therapy for me. i love it.

Ramona said...

Meg, you have no idea how much I feel connected right now. I too wish for rain. The kind of rain that changes everything. It is Spring and that's supposed to be the season of new life right... but where is it? Why has this dark Winter season not ended for me yet. Oh how I long for the change, for new life in my life. For love to finally happen, for new happiness! But like you said... it all comes down to being patient. Patient with time, patient with myself, with my heart with my feelings and with my future. I still have a lot to learn here!

Chelsea Talks Smack said...

YOU. Just you. I love every word you write. Just devour them.

Chelsea Talks Smack said...

YOU. Just you. I love every word you write. Just devour them.

Holly said...

The time in which you stop looking for love, it will find you. It will seem so easy & effortless. :) <3

gian hernandez said...

Hi Meg, am from the Philippines and I have been following yer blog for more than 3 years now and reading your words just makes me feel good. thank you.

Be patient with a timeline that is not yours to define - this could be my favorite. :)

Sarah said...

Love U Meg!

jennyjones said...

thank. you. thank you.

Mackenzie said...

i wish i could leave a video comment for this post. i'm touched. i'm seriously nodding my head in so much agree-ance with this gem of a post. thank you.

Brei said...

Meg,
A friend gave me a book yesterday and said I needed to read it. I started reading and it made me think of you. It's called "When God Winks on love" by SQuire Rushnell. It's all about how people meet and fall in love through coincidence. It's really crazy how all these people met. Thought I would pass the book on to you because it seems right up your alley.