On Patience

I am extraordinarily patient.

With myself.

With everyone else, I assume they're not self-aware enough or reliable enough to get the thing that "needs" doing done and I "need" to incessantly remind them of this.

I recognized this some time ago, but changing that behavior, which is precisely as grotesque as that sentence makes it sound, is proving to be very difficult.

One, I've got some fairly solid OCD behaviors. This means that, by and large, if I think it, I say it. I have gotten increasingly better at using mindfulness to think about the consequences of what I say, but I can't win every time. Worse, I get something in my head that "needs" to be accomplished, and I grow increasingly angry and disappointed in a person for not doing that thing within the timeframe I feel is appropriate.

Yet, with myself, I know that I will eventually get anything that should be done done, eventually. I believe in myself. If I don't feel like doing the dishes one minute, I know that by the end of the day, I will want to, and I will enjoy doing it. I don't push myself. I don't view it as procrastination, I see it more as waiting for the planets to align to make the experience as fulfilling as possible. If I force myself to do something, to finish an art project before the inspiration is there, to clean the apartment when I'd rather be watching Friday Night Lights on Netflix, it makes me feel leaden and it winds up taking five times as long, and when it's done, there's no sense of pride or accomplishment.

And so, I've learned that things'll happen when they're ready to, and I leave it at that. It has done wonders for my stress levels; I used to fret, lie awake at night, blah blah blah stress behaviors about every niggly thing that "needed" to be done that I wasn't getting done within the timeframe I thought was appropriate.

Why can't I have this laid back attitude with the people I love?

I don't fucking know, and it frustrates me enormously. I see it driving people away from me, I see it hardening people to me when I push, and yet I can't just sit back and let things take their course. And don't get me wrong, it always comes from a place of love, it just doesn't feel like love to the people I'm pushing.

A recent example that crushed my heart a little the other day; a friend is going through a very rough time. His mother committed suicide not too long ago, and he is, as he should be, having a lot of trouble with it. I suggested he see a therapist at the place I go to. He said that was a very good idea, that he'd do it, just not this week as he was busy. The next time we talked, I asked him if he'd called the place yet. He hadn't, and gave an excuse. I implored him to do it, please. He said he would. The other day, he initiated a conversation and when I asked him how he was doing, he said, "I'd tell you, but every time I do, you harp on me to call NIP."

"Fuck," I thought. "There you go again, Sarah."

And my mind scrambles, trying to figure out a way to assure him I wouldn't do that this time, and I settle on saying, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

It's a chat conversation on Facebook, so when he responds, "Goodnight. xoxo" I know I've just pushed him away from speaking openly to me about how he's actually feeling. He's a touchy man to begin with, so we've had several instances where I've discovered things are taboo (he gets super weird about me telling him anything about someone I'm dating, for instance). But in this situation, I want to be the paragon of empathy, and I'm failing. Now, I am fairly sure, he won't talk to me about how he's doing, thereby isolating him from someone who cares deeply about his welfare.

How do I learn to let people do things on their own time while also offering the advice they seek from me, without being pushy or too invested in their success and progress in life?

The question may very well be a koan.