Are you waiting for news on how your company is going to move forward, or waiting to see if your child’s summer camp will open this year? Maybe you’re trying to schedule a vacation for the first time in a long time and having trouble finalizing trip plans. Is your contractor returning your calls? Are you waiting to hear back from a client who seemed so interested in working with you? Are you trying to determine whether to hold that meeting in person, virtually or make it hybrid, and still waiting for insight from the decision maker?
This “stuck” feeling happens to us all at some point, but right now it seems to be happening with everything at the same time. Frustrating? Yes!
It is so easy to list times from our past when we were actively Striving:
Those seconds, minutes, hours of waiting seemed like years.
So, when I feel this desire, this urge to have life move faster, I take note of it. Like you, I have been here before. I know that the only thing that will bring me some relief is really embracing my Mindfulness practice.
Actively Letting-Go when I notice myself worrying about the future, remembering to Trust the process and let things play out, and having the Patience to know that this too shall pass.
And then I’ll read this poem I’ve cherished for decades that has helped me get through so many of these Striving moments.
BY RUDYARD KIPLING
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Above Photo credit: Aubrey Odom on Unsplash
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