A work in progress.
Sidenote: this is my very first post using Gutenberg. Should be interesting ten years down the track.
On to the main thought at hand.
I’m 37 this year, and despite past years of seasoning, frustration still threatens to break my sense of composure at times.
Frustration with the way things are progressing, ever so slowly. Frustration with the pace other people work at. I’ve learnt that everyone has their own pace, and their own priorities in life, but it doesn’t make things any easier.
I feel the seconds ticking by, and my life slowly vanishing, bit by bit. There could be so much more, but I’m bound up in unseen chains, waiting upon the whims and wills of many others.
There is merit in patience, in discussion and exchange of ideas, and in thoroughness. I get all of that.
I’m not the impatient youth of yesteryear.
No longer that kid, who blitzed through his exam papers as quickly as he could, because that was how he worked.
No longer that thoughtless youngster, who raged at the corporate workplace, because the right thing was never done, and seldom rewarded, if ever.
The years have imparted through painful experience, a modicum of patience. That the fastest, isn’t always the best.
No matter – I still chafe at the invisible bonds.
WJ tells me, it gets easier as we get older. How he’s feels almost zen-like at 39. I can only hope that I get there, someday.
Unrelated: here’s one of my favourite quotes.
“Death is lighter than a feather. Duty, heavier than a mountain.”
― Robert Jordan, The Eye of the World