Generation YOLO

I hate waiting- a consequence of being a privileged American. Waiting symbolizes inefficiency, an unacceptable quality in our every changing culture. We are a society plagued with FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out), desperate to have the golden egg the second it is available. We all know what happened to Veruca, and still we ignore Willy Wonka and reach for the undeserved prize. This attitude towards waiting corrupts our ability to understand the benefits of the process.  

Mothers try to convince us that some things are worth waiting for. We roll our eyes and mouth YOLO, while Miley Cyrus’ latest hit pulses through our earbuds- “we can’t stop, and we won’t stop.” Sad. We reject wisdom and glorify foolery. We encourage friends to “do you” which rationalizes anything short of mass murder. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, it’s all good. But what if you’re hurting you? 

Instead of learning patience and growing while we prepare ourselves to receive something worthwhile, we label waiting as an idle act- completely static. In turn, we praise busyness, scheduling each second of the day, so there is no time to assess our personal situation. In yogi terms, we avoid checking in. We fail to acknowledge the areas in our life that need change and support. 

The lack of attention paid to ourselves hinders us from learning personal grace. When we are finally forced to face a crumbling corner of our soul, it’s a permanent blow. We don’t have time to let the wound or shortcoming heal. Instead we label it broken, a irreversible fracture in our structure, and readjust our standards for ourselves. We live in mediocrity, because we don’t have the patience for greatness.

But there is time to heal. If we’re strong enough to slow down and embrace a season of waiting, we can mend our broken pieces and even grow. We can be great if we understand that it takes more effort to hold off on something you really want, than hurdle over prerequisites for rapid results. The former reaps long term benefits, the later delivers momentary bliss. Impatience breeds one night stands, not intimacy- eating disorders, not healthy habits- fast food, not free range. 

We omit the long term to feel in the moment, then we fill the empty space left over with whatever we can to avoid analyzing yesterday. In reality, analyzing yesterday, spontaneous or premeditated (idiotic or awesome), is our way of knowing ourselves. If we are apathetic to our experiences, we are lost. Unfortunately, intimacy, even with ourselves, takes time and patience. We must commit to holding ourselves accountable and stop rationalizing our stupidity. We must decide who we are and who we aren't, and act accordingly. A mistake is not a permanent blemish, but an opportunity to learn and hopefully not repeat. Taking care of ourselves will teach us grace and forgiveness toward our faults, and also help us forgive others. The road is long and involves a lot of waiting before any breakthrough.  But 10 years from now, we’ll be happy to recognize and respect the face staring back at us in the mirror.

What makes me an expert on patience? I'm not. However, circumstance forced me, with little choice, into the world of waiting. I fell in love with an army officer. I moved to Seattle. We got engaged. He deployed. I’m not just waiting on our wedding. I’m waiting for my other half to come home safely from Afghanistan. I refuse to accept that this season adds up to Netflix movies and late night worrying. There has to be more. I needed to find meaning and movement in this time of uncertainty. Slowly, as I explore myself and this city, I am growing and learning beyond my expectations. I am finding the the space between busyness and stillness. It is good. 

Don't Judge A Person By Their Polaroid

I moved out to Seattle in May and, despite my constant exposure to change, I am not immune to the transition associated with it. We all adapt differently to change and I am beginning to recognize my own challenges in making a new place feel like home.

Recently, Richard, the head pastor at Bethany Community Church, stated that “intimacy is not microwaveable.” We cannot expedite our way into deep meaningful relationships by popping it in the microwave for two and a half minutes. It takes time, patience, and a lot of effort to create genuine lasting friendships. That was very hard for me to accept, as a woman who craves constant change. But as I let the idea marinate, I recognized the truth behind his words and found, in my own life, where I struggle to form intimate bonds.

When I first meet people, I see them as 2 dimensional. The facts I associate with them- their name (if I can remember it), occupation, home state, hobbies etc., become the only truths about them. Unfortunately, more times than not, these surface details leave a flat and relatively uninteresting impression. I forget to leave room for their character to reveal itself. As a writer and a people person, this revelation is nothing short of horrifying. Also, it confirms the origin of my least favorite habit.

I have an irrational need to spill my own soul to strangers and mere acquaintances. I want them to see my depth immediately for fear of dismissal or disinterest. I don’t want them to do to me, what I often do to others. In the process, I share too much, leaving myself vulnerable and exposed to those who didn’t earn my trust. Basically, I try very hard to microwave my own intimacy... always unsuccessfully. 

Fortunately, my 2D view is never permanent and always develops into something positive. Slowly (the way intimacy is meant to happen) I start to peel away the surface and delve into good stuff. My initial paper-thin perception starts to expand and gain width. This newfound girth creates understanding and compassion- revealed complexities leave little room for annoyance or judgement and make space for unconditional love. The 2D often captures an unflattering snapshot of a person, while the 3D allows us to dismiss the initial negative and reveal the infinite intricacies of human beings. Despite my awareness of this, I still find myself extremely surprised every time I encounter contradictions to my first impression. It’s like getting exactly what I wanted on Christmas morning without even asking. I love it. However, I do not approve of the instantaneous judgement that precedes it. So this week, I have turned my critical eye on myself in hopes of breaking my habit. Instead, I found I already harbored a superficial version of myself.  

To the inceptive eye, I am a talkative, friendly, confident army brat that feeds into the military stereotype of getting married young and hurriedly. I’m that girl that moved across country for the man she loved, who makes feminist cringe because she hasn’t figured out her career yet.  

All along, I’ve carried this 2D perception of myself in my sub conscience. Although a part of me knows I am more than that, I have given weight to the potential (not actual) misperceptions others might make of me. This need to be liked and understood breeds a damaging insecurity that can be paralyzing. Not to mention, it hinders intimacy. Despite the truth that I am a strong, independent woman (I moved out to Seattle to start a life knowing that my fiance would be deployed), my story is overshadowed by my insecurity that people will overlook my character and see this untrue shadow of myself as the whole package. 

To overcome this detrimental habit, I must let go of my 2D image of myself. I need to have grace for myself, so I can regain confidence and abolish insecurity. That way, I can look at other people with the same grace and stop the unflattering proofs from ever becoming photographs. Intimacy is not microwavable, but it is achievable if we are wiling to put in the time and overlook that initial snapshot.