Erin Lausten

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On Patience and Obsession

Posted by erinlausten on January 14, 2011

Photo by Jonathan Billinger

I can be a bit obsessive. It has yet to become compulsion, but obsession nonetheless. So, I have to redirect my energies. I’m not allowed to smoke anymore, so nix that. Television lacks any former draw for my attention (not particularly interesting as it has never pulled me beyond a minor alternative to eye-piercing boredom). And all the little projects that constantly fill up my plate feel more like gnats strafing my ears than the usual entertaining diversions.

What is this I feel? Is it boredom? I haven’t felt bored in years. Not since I met my husband, definitely not since the arrival of my new born son.  So what is this feeling that has me caged in, frantic, frazzed out like a chipmunk that just watched the Planters Peanut truck flip on the highway?

It’s familiar. Like what you feel on the way up the log ride right before THE BIG DROP. Anticipation is such a poor word for it. Unless uttered through the most luscious lips of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, then maybe. Waiting is bad too. I’m not waiting. I’m banging my head against an immovable object that by the pure force of my will should blow into a million tiny pieces. Waiting suggests patience. I have none. Waiting suggests a sense of calm acceptance. Once again, WRONG.

Patience. There is that awful word again. My tragic flaw. That piece of personal improvement that will forever mock me as I struggle through this life. (Struggle is such a strong word, but I am feeling dramatic, work with me here) I feel I am at a crossroads. The trouble is I have no problem choosing a way. But I feel I am being held in place, at the California border, stuck behind a truck that obviously has undeclared fruit packed from top to bottom. (Fruit flies. Damn them all. Damn them all to hell). And I have road rage at the crossroads. How can you have road rage on the intangible road to discovery?

Patience. So I have a choice. Learn to wait with grace as the pieces fall into place so I can continue my journey down a new road OR refit my hats to compensate for the flat panel that my forehead will become as I repetitively slam it against the wall. The choice is easy. I know a milliner.


4 Responses to “On Patience and Obsession”

  1. Shelly said

    Having five daughters and two goofy ex’s taught me patience. Yup. It’s true you can only control what you do.

    Feel the pain.

  2. Eve said

    Wow, have you been listening to the Carly Simon song…”Anticipation?”

  3. William Kendall said

    Since smoking is out, may I suggest chocolate?

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