While I’m still please don’t wake me

keep art alive; art by Stella Im Hultberg

“See the shore light up night sky,

See the beach swing summers high.
August shower after heat,
smell of rain on dry concrete.
Feel the air turn cold around,

See leaves fall blur the ground.
Wet road slide slither by,
catch reflections petrol sky.

Will you wait here?”

Patience is not a virtue that has ever been prevalent, or plentiful, in my overall make-up. I was never one to enjoy ticking off days on a calendar in anticipation for something to happen; I was more the one who wanted to take a giant marker pen and slash at the days in one zigzag line, making whatever happen right now. I would jump before looking, run into traffic, close my eyes and hope for the best – I was always rushing and running before I even knew where I was going. This is how I lived most of my life, and this is certainly the way in which I loved.

I think I thought it brave to live like that; the shy girl I was as a child striving for some kind of statement, a sort of reckless abandon, a leap of courage, or faith, or simply just naiveté. I never saw the pitfalls of acting with so little thought until the walls would start to crumble and collapse and the holes began to leak through, causing myself to begin to sink, and drown. And then I would run again, climb out the window, snagging the hem of my shirt sleeve, or dress, on the latch, and blistering my feet from running away so fast.

I never learned how to relax, how to breathe deeply, how to really wait for things. Even in my contemplations, and quiet moments, my thoughts were ever spinning in circles, rarely in any sort of linear fashion. But, that part of me is changing, and has been for much of the last few years of my life. As I veer into finding myself more, and following my own path, and learning to recognize my instincts I am also learning how to find patience, quiet moments, and the ability – and gift – of waiting. And, I am realizing, as well, that my reluctance to wait has had more to do with my personal sense of self (and often self-loathing/low esteem) then a need to rush things. Maybe it has never been a question of patience after all, but more of a fear that if I did not chase and grab and hold on, often prematurely, I would be forgotten, and left behind.

But somethings are worth waiting for, possibly even me.

Will You Wait Here? :: Longview

“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.” ~ Paulo Coelho

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