Patient Move

Patient Move

unpacked boxes in middle of room
Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com

I have said it again and again, I’m not a patient person. It’s simply not who I am. It doesn’t effect my daily life, but can be annoying. To myself and others.

If there’s nothing I can actively do to speed things up or get a result, I accept it. If there’s nothing one can do and it’s totally out of my hands then that’s how it is. There’s no need to get worked up about something I have no influence on. All I can do is wait, maybe check the progress.

But if there is a chance to speed things up, that’s what I want. I rather do things myself than spend time waiting for someone else to do it. This often leads to me having a lot on my plate and being stressed, overwhelmed, and annoyed.

My impatience is the reason I like being in charge and why I dislike so many people. I hate waiting and being dependent on others. I often gave a plan of how things should go, but somehow others have a very different plan or none at all. That obviously has an impact on me.

As some of you might know, Michael moved to a different house. How is that connected to what I was writing before? Let me elaborate.

Him, or rather them, moving was a long process of course. Things have been happening, but always in the background. The closer the moving date came the more there was to do. In the week of the move Michael was really busy. I knew it was coming.

On a Sunday I was doing my own home improvement project and chatted with Michael every now and then, while he was packing, disassembling stuff and so on. That day I realised he’ll be so busy that we probably won’t have much time together.

I decided to be patient.

I doubted I could make it. One day is hard enough, but a week and probably more? Yet, after that first day when I tried to get myself to understand that I needed to be patient, it wasn’t too bad. Having plenty to do and being busy myself help certainly.

Throughout those days we were still in contact, but there were no calls or long chats. I followed my schedule, mostly, and asked permission for things we agreed on. It wasn’t easy for me. I believe it wouldn’t have been on anyone. There were so many things I wanted to share with him during the time. There still are issues we need to address, which had been put in hold for the duration of the move.

The day of the move finally came and the few days after. He seemed less stressed and a bit more free. That must’ve been when I too began to let go. I didn’t have to be patient anymore. Or at least not as much.

What I hadn’t realised was how much of my energy it took from me. I had no idea how used I got to having him around. It was harder for me than I understood myself. The realisation only came after I had an evening with tears and (self-)doubt. That was the first evening we got to finally chat for. Bit longer. The moment he was there, I didn’t need to be strong and in control and patient and waiting. He was there to catch me and comfort me. For that I’m extremely grateful.

While they are in their new house, a lot of things still need to be done. I’m an impatient person and I believe I did pretty well. I’ll be ok for a bit longer.

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