The Genetics of Impatience
When I went to
Australia a few weeks back, I spent some long overdue time with my brothers (Paul
& Mark), sister (Phillipa), as well as my mum, Kath. It was really nice and
I am thrilled for Paul that he finally found his bride. However, because I
haven’t been around my family for nearly six years (how did that happen?) it was
interesting to watch and observe. Definitely a case of watch them, see
yourself.
Paul in the middle |
One thing I’ve
always known is my family has always been pretty out there compared to most.
Let’s just say there was always a lot of energy in the family, because we’re
all a bit manic. I always remember a lot of people around our family often
wondering how the bloody hell we all keep moving, thinking, speaking, shouting
(mainly mum) and running at the pace we did, but it appears it’s in the genes.
At one point, Mark
was talking about how he hates people walking in front of him, feeling like
he’s constantly being tripped up by slow walkers. I totally get that. Worse for
me is someone who stops and talks to me in a doorway – as my husband knows so
well. Speak to me but keep moving love, and DO NOT trap me in. Although I have
come to appreciate that walking fast when there’s nowhere to be is completely
pointless – slow down and enjoy the moment right? Also a benefit of living in
the tropics is you walk slower because it’s too just bloody hot to walk fast.
I’m still quick for Singapore though.
Paul showed a
different manic side – this time when opening stuff – and there’s a lot of
stuff to open during a wedding. I am equally guilty of this, as are my kids.
When opening anything, if it is not immediately responsive, what do you do? You
rip it apart that’s what you do. You know that patience virtue thing? I didn’t
get a lot of that either.
Mark and Phillipa |
My sister Phillipa
lives her life at such high velocity, it’s hard for anyone to keep up. Whether
she’s teaching, conducting, hosting a radio show, mothering, or decorating the
most amazing cakes, she can spin your head around at the pace she lives her
life.
And then there’s
my lovely mum Kath. Bloody hell mum, I just got out of bed, give me a chance to
turn around and make it. My mum’s home is always ALWAYS clean, and nothing
stays in the wrong place. Mum is definitely the one who gave all of us those impatient
and manic genes. My dad is definitely the calm one of the clan – although I got
my “headiness” from him. Thanks dad.
I’ve often
wondered why I can’t just sit back and enjoy the ride – appreciating what I’ve
achieved and being OK with that. I’ve always tried really hard to master it –
with meditation, mindfulness practice, etc.. - but there’s always something
else I want to achieve, a new goal to be set, a new ambition to nurture. I
can’t help it. This thing lives inside of me and as Queen sang “I want it all
and I want it now.”
I was out with my
mate for drinks the other night and she said you need to learn to be patient when
I told her things weren’t moving fast enough in one area of my life. I know, I
KNOW but I can’t. The drive exists and if I get freed up in one area of my
life, a new opportunity has some space to jump in. I know it is exhausting for
Steve. I feel the exhaustion of being with me in him often. But I can’t help
it, I really can’t. He knew that when he married me too.
I was reading
something recently that our most productive and successful years are usually in
our 40s-60s. When I read it I thought of course, here I am in the heart of the
time when I can probably achieve my best work, and yet here I am also in the
time of being a hands on mum with young kids. That’s why you do the procreating
thing earlier, so you can be free when your best time comes up. Doh!
Oh well, life
twists and weaves, opportunities ebb and flow, and I continue to run full pace
into everything, doing too much, taking new things on, agreeing to more, more,
more. I will continue to work on quieting my mind, trying to get more peaceful,
more grateful, etc.., but it seems, perhaps, I just need to accept this is who
I am and should relish in my thirst for life. Based on my trip to Australia, I
think I can say it’s definitely in my genes after all.
Anyone else relate
to being completely manic – in mind, body or spirit?
Yours, without the
bollocks
Andrea
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