Have you ever been asked to step away
from something that you're not yet finished with? It leaves you
at loose ends, feeling unfinished. And it can unravel you if you
let it. Especially if it's a person with whom you have a
significant tie.
You cannot make someone come to you, or talk to you, or even
acknowledge you if they don't want to (or if they feel uneasy
about it). Even if you believe you could ease them. Even if you
want to assure them that it's not a bad thing to communicate
under any circumstances.
It's these times, that I have to stop and take a breath and
remember...time is a wonderful leveler. Time will bring us back
to the core of what brought us together and we will come back to
the beginning once the wounds have healed and perspective is
gained and we are more grounded in ourselves.
Bottom line, I may think I want to talk with someone (and I do),
but if they are not in a place to do that and I ask them to
anyway, what do I gain? I have a conversation with someone who is
not invested in being or talking with me. And isn't what I really
want is for them to freely come to me because they want
to?
So, I wait (which is not one of my strong points), and I remember
that I live my life at lighting speed; moving through crisis to
insight faster than most; pursuing every endeavor to the nth
degree - simultaneously.
I learn fast and I live fast. I don't waste a lot of time. My
style is intense. I know for a fact that I get more done in a day
than most people do in a week. And this it true for me
emotionally as well. I move through the process of processing and
coming to insights faster than most. I learn from my mistakes,
make changes immediately to accommodate the new information, and
incorporate that into my life -- always remembering my core
belief that if I'm true to myself, anything is possible.
It's not my fault that I'm quick. And although it's afforded me
many wondrous experiences (I've traveled far and wide; had
numerous careers; collected more men and more friends than anyone
else I know), it can be difficult when the world generally moves
slower. And when those I care for are thrown by my pace - or by
my (unintentional) expectation that they are as fast as me at
moving to the end...where we talk again.
...so I ground myself in my creativity which feeds my spirit. I
pursue being exactly who I am in every moment (even if others
don't like it), and I remember that if I live truly in the
moment, I will have everything I always wanted, even things I
didn't know.
...and I communicate with the only tool I have besides an actual
conversation, I write. And hope that those I'm talking to are
listening and know that I'm talking directly to them. And I wait,
and I dream, and I trust, and I live and I cry and I laugh...I'm
very busy waiting.
…and I remember that our best times were the times we came
together freely without limits set on how or when that could be.
So I try (in my small way) to recreate that, by not putting
limits on how or when we'll talk again.
And although I have a knack of pushing people to do more than
they see themselves as capable of, or feel comfortable with
(because I'm unafraid to challenge people to think differently or
try something anyway), I've found that this quality sometimes
needs to be set aside in order to give someone time to catch up.