Mach speed.

I move at no other pace and often get impatient when others aren’t keeping
up with me. It’s been labeled as “controlling” and “bitchy” in the past.

Neither did I fondly adore! But I am a firm believer in messages from the Universe. And although I love that I have the ability to recognize those beneficial doors swinging open for me, I now know that sometimes that gentle, metaphysical nudge I get in the back isn’t always something I want to turn around face.

In the last few months it seems I have had several people say to me, “Yeah Micki, you aren’t really known for your patience.” What me? I was a Elementary classroom teacher. I home schooled a child! If those don’t take absolute and utter patience, I don’t know what does.

But there it was … my dear friends would politely pause as they told a story that excited me so much I had to jump in and ask clarifying questions. They really do love me … An ex-husband who would often say … “well if you would just let me finish.” (Which mind you I would follow up with “by the time you finish your story I will have forgotten the 12 things I wanted to ask you as you told it”.) I always had an excuse for my impatience. Sometimes my thoughts weren’t very kind as I toe tapped waiting for someone to finish something … a task, a story. But I HAD learned to not actually physically take over said project or job. I WAS, of course, a teacher at heart!

After being dubbed “Squirrel ,“ (which I am absolutely positive now was not necessarily a good thing, as once described, when I mentally darted around with all my creative projects, writings and inspirations) I’ve tried to tame my inner chaos by stepping out of my box and painting. My mom always painted. It couldn’t be that hard right?

My first impression …

“Jesus … do people really do this as a form of relaxation?”

I was a ball of nerves even trying to free hand what I had hoped to paint.

Then there is my child who has completed two paint by numbers pieces of art that are absolutely amazing. Although I long for a beautiful piece to adorn my wall, I just shake my head as I walk past her hunched over and constantly offer her more light. I had absolutely zero desire to do one of these intricacies, none! THAT should have been my first clue that my patience needed a little hand holding.

She would sit for hours, completely entranced with brush in hand, earbuds in her ears painting away.

And then one more person commented on my patience …

So I ordered my kit. It had numbers. No creativity required.

Covid entertainment. Torture.

Therapy. The cheapest kind.

So here I sit and amazingly my heartbeat slows down. My monkey mind goes silent. There is no urge to dart from task to task. 

Sometimes we keep busy so we don’t have to listen to our whispers of truth.

Those truths let us see the beauty and sparkles in our lives but they also allow us to reflect and refine our own edges.

Life is a journey.

Keep growing …

and painting!