It was hard today to turn my back on my sunny garden and walk to the train station, knowing that the sun was just warming it up and the birds were filling it with busy sounds. The washing was on the line, all was green and bright. I felt a pang of regret, leaving it to go to an office block. I'm back in the garden now, and it and the sunshine waited for me (although unfortunately so did the sound of an angle grinder, the man next door is building a new bit of house).
On the way home I listened to The Minimalists "Everything That Remains" and the bleak picture Josh Millburn paints of the life of a high-earning Executive. That life is not my life, I don't live in those extremes, but it pulled at a chord of sympathy:
Working at a box, staring at a box. Not where I want to be. It's at times like this that I find it hard to focus on what I need to do to get from A to B because it feels like I can't get there fast enough. At the moment working in the office box is at A, and will also be there for the rest of the alphabet until I can free myself from it. I will free myself but it's hard to be patient in the mean time.
How can I deal with this impatience?
I'm training myself to keep on returning to the simplicity of A to B. I can't finish the journey without taking the steps. My step right now, that I'm working on at this moment is writing. That is my current step, one of the stones that's making the foundation. As I work on that it's unfolding new knowledge to me. I'm leaning in, putting my hand to the plow and in doing so turning up odd bits of treasure. Exploring scarcity and abundance is one treasure, something to sort through that will move me forward on the journey.
When you plant a seed you have to trust that the small, insignificant speck will grow into the technicolour picture on the seed packet.You prepare the soil, plant, water and wait - PATIENTLY. You keep on checking that it has the right amount of light and water and feel so happy when the first shoot appears. It gets bigger and you know that it really could become a flower. You feel glad you went to the effort now and keep on caring for it. You feel encouraged because your dream is becoming real, you're making it real. It's no longer a dream, no longer a nice picture on a packet but a goal, and you're moving towards it.
I must just keep on doing these two things:
On the way home I listened to The Minimalists "Everything That Remains" and the bleak picture Josh Millburn paints of the life of a high-earning Executive. That life is not my life, I don't live in those extremes, but it pulled at a chord of sympathy:
“My life occurs mostly in boxes. Each morning, I leave my box-home, drive my box-car to my box-building, ride the box-elevator to my box-office, stare at the glowing box on my desk, eat a boxed lunch, hop from box-room to box-room for various meetings (where we’re encouraged to think outside, you guessed it, the box), drive my box-car back to my box-home, microwave a box-dinner, which I eat in front of the idiot box in my box-shaped livingroom.”
Working at a box, staring at a box. Not where I want to be. It's at times like this that I find it hard to focus on what I need to do to get from A to B because it feels like I can't get there fast enough. At the moment working in the office box is at A, and will also be there for the rest of the alphabet until I can free myself from it. I will free myself but it's hard to be patient in the mean time.
How can I deal with this impatience?
I'm training myself to keep on returning to the simplicity of A to B. I can't finish the journey without taking the steps. My step right now, that I'm working on at this moment is writing. That is my current step, one of the stones that's making the foundation. As I work on that it's unfolding new knowledge to me. I'm leaning in, putting my hand to the plow and in doing so turning up odd bits of treasure. Exploring scarcity and abundance is one treasure, something to sort through that will move me forward on the journey.
I'm turning up the soil, pulling out rocks that would choke and stunt the things I want to grow. Many of the rocks are easy to toss aside but some of them are valuable gems. These are the opportunities to learn and grow, opportunities to learn about myself. These rocks get set aside in another pile, more useful stones to be used in the foundations because each one has a lesson attached. As I write I turn up stone after stone and create softer earth. I'll feed it with the nutrients of trust, learning, and willingness to try with my whole self. I'll plant the seeds of my dreams in that soil so that they become goals. They've struggled to grow in hardly touched ground before and have done well to make any progress. Now they're getting the best start possible and I'll tend them with care.
I must just keep on doing these two things:
- Take focused action
- Be patient
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