I've been accused of impatience more times than I can count, but I prefer to describe myself as enthusiastic--I am greedy for life! Sitting around, twiddling thumbs, and waiting for the perfect moment, place, or set of conditions to align so I can start something feels like an egregiously wasteful and soul-sucking endeavor. To me, patience isn't some holy virtue to aspire to—it's a skill you develop only to endure the agonizing consternation of watching the minutes tick their way around the clock.
When people call me impatient, I counter that I get shit done. Acting on the information I have, I take ownership of the outcomes of my choices. Could things go sideways? Sure. But life's too short to be frozen in analysis paralysis, too fleeting to hinge your happiness on a future that may or may not cooperate with your plans. Plans are after all, mere blueprints for the things we aspire to transpire; they should be fluid like liquid plastic, primed to take shape as it arrives to its appropriate temperature.
As we all know but seem to disregard, there's no "perfect" time. The stars won't magically align in some mystical pattern. The weather won't always cooperate. You won't always feel ready. That bucket list trip? Stop saying you'll take it when work slows down. That hobby you've been dying to pick up? Quit waiting for a free weekend. That shiny bauble that would make your heart sing? Maybe today's the day to open your Wallet (you have never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul trailer). Waiting is a human construct, one that paralyzes us with the false promise of someday, when all we truly have is today. I'm not promoting hastiness, excessiveness, or over-indulgence. I'm proposing that to squeeze the most out of life, we must cultivate and engage our situational awareness--let's notice that the present moment is the only time-space we have to consummate our dreams.
But first, here I Must dispense with the word "impatience," as it properly connotes anxiety, unease, even annoyance. I prefer "eagerness," which is not about recklessness. It's about seizing the present—the only time we're guaranteed. I believe waiting is a waste of time unless it's purposeful. If you're pausing to say grace for what you have, to breathe deeply, to soak in the abundance of the moment—that's worthwhile. But waiting for conditions to be "right"? That's just fear dressed up in procrastination.
Life is movement, and movement requires time, but to sit still and wait for a sign is to deny the nature of your existence. Humans are wired to move, to explore, to risk. Sure, there's a place for pondering and studying and making intentional choices. But don't confuse thoughtful action with the inertia of waiting.
I've experienced enough things to know there's no perfect time. I've taken up new interests even when the timing wasn't ideal (hello, left-handed watercolor outlines!), finished a quilt years after I started it, and realized that none of those moments were "perfect." They just were. And I was there. And that was enough.
So, what are you waiting for? Really, what? The clock is ticking, not in some ominous way, but as a reminder that the only moment you can count on is the one you're in. Breathe it in. Feel it. Then move. Just move.