Patience is not my strongest suit. And how honorable of me to become judgy with others when they are impatient. I recognize the jugdemental thoughts in my mind – the impatience with the impatience – about others who are impatient, like the sweet, jolly dog Gaia, the children of the place where I am staying at, and with my body when it urges needs… Because impatience is silly, right? You cannot push anything to become faster when time is needed. How logical of me.
So I was wondering about this ridiculously paradoxical mind behaviour- the impatience with the impatience.
Let’s get a bit philosophical here. What is impatience? Looking closer into it, it is actually quite a passionate state. A state of desire, where you want that thing in mind so much, that you perceive every-thing (or time) standing between you and that thing as a disturbance. The 45 minutes needed for the cake to be baked, the repetitive act of rewiring thought patterns for a kinder mind, the felt centuries long of waiting until spring spurts blossoms on the trees… you get the gist. When the wish to achieve a goal is so big that the way towards it seems like a pain in the A, it’s because we dearly long for that thing.
And then we can wonder, what exactly is wishing that dream? The imagination is vast, it’s infinate, it’s timeless, it’s God-like, and the sweet little body of the Self can go ahead and bring things into matter. With its own hands and with the hands of others. Earth, rocks, formations, density, bodies, bones, all that is bound to the rules of time. Time exists there where bodies exist. And where time and bodies exist, there ideas and goals become an embodied experience. They become a relational happening.
What if the whole process of achieving that thing in mind, is part of that thing as well? What if the experience forms and forges the thing to that what it is? This means the cake is not only made of eggs, flour, sugar, butter, heat and the 45 minutes needed to bake it, but the cake is also made of the feelings that arise during those 45 minutes, the music that we listen to whilst waiting, the chatters between, the sounds it makes in co-lab with the oven, the glimpses towards it when it deliciously rises in the middle, the protective attempts against little fingers that want to prematurely sneak it out from the oven,… The cake becomes alive. As alive as anyone and anything around us.
Let’s make every-thing relational.
Why?
Cause it is.
Enjoy your cake,
<3