A little while later she spotted the peaches and did the same routine. Point, rub chest, make moaning-pleading sounds with her mouth.
“They’re not ripe yet, Jane.”
Point, rub chest, plead.
“No, Jane, I’m sorry. They’re rock solid. I’m promise you won’t like them.”
Then the tears came. She was ready for a peach. But I knew better. It just wasn’t time.
I feel like I’ve spent most of my life in Jane’s position. I have ideas, hopes, dreams that I can see as clearly as Jane saw that peach. But despite all my pointing, pleading and moaning- nothing happens. I don’t get the peach either.
And it feels like a lot of the current inspirational rhetoric out there encourages me to grab bulls by horns. Charge up mountains. Forge my own paths, etc. etc. And while I agree that there are times to take that aggressive initiative, I wonder if there are also times to be patient. To trust that Something out there knows that it’s not time yet. Or maybe even, like with Jane just jonesing for the ‘mallows, it’s actually not a good idea. Either way, the moment isn’t as ripe as it feels to me.
I drove into work thinking that as much as I don’t like it, desire paired with trust is a healthy way to start each day. I’m starving for my dream projects to be handed to me now. I don’t want to wait another day. I see them, I’m saying “please” with my hands and my mouth. And I’m even working hard to do what I can to make them happen.
But perhaps what I need even more than anything right now is a determined patience rooted in trust.
Point, plead, trust. Perhaps that’s a good rhythm to get into. And along the way link arms with the kindred souls out there longing for more. They might play an important part in the ripening.
Photo (Flickr CC) by Jackson’s Orchard