I run. From one thing to the next, it is a mad dash. When things don’t work the way I want, tempers flare and words fly unchecked. Frustrations mount and I feel as though I’m moving backwards, being pushed in all the ways I don’t want to go.
That path is a dangerous one. Those are the moments that are most hurtful to others and to myself. Anger and impatience keep me from being to person I am supposed to be – the one I was created to be – but they live within me. These unwelcome houseguests elbow their way through my life, shoving aside peace and joy and love. They invite regret and hurt in with no regard for my good intentions.
Only after the storm, in the quiet created by fear and pain does it become clear to me that they have surfaced again. Only then has my mind cleared enough to realize that another stone has been cast and that it was by my hand.
I forget to pause. I do not remember that the aftermath could be avoided. It is difficult to ask forgiveness. I would not have to ask if I practiced the pause before the storm. I could prevent the storm entirely, but I have to remember that anger and impatience are not the only residents within me.
There is peace. There is love. There is kindness. There is compassion. These are quiet – much quieter than their counterparts who bicker constantly for attention. Those are the ones I must learn to seek out when things do not go as planned. Those are the ones that I should keep close at hand when the world is moving so quickly around me that I am a tempest trying to keep up.
I must remember to pause. I won’t always; I understand this about myself. There is more good than evil, though. More beauty than unloveliness. I have to call those parts forward and leave them in the forefront, pausing in everything to make sure that those parts of me are what is presented. I know that it is in me to be the person I was meant to be, and that is a great comfort.
