Patience is a virtue (so why don't I have any?)

My art has taught me so many valuable lessons over the years. It's improved my confidence, eradicated my shyness, and taught me how to love even the ugly parts of myself.

But there's one lesson I am still integrating - I am still learning how to be patient.

I am better than I used to be. The old me used to start a painting for one reason - to finish it. I saw completed paintings as the only goal. As a result, I felt frustrated much of the time. I didn't enjoy the process of painting as much as I should, because I wasn't achieving my aims. 

I've now learned to slow down and take pleasure in the process. I am better at enjoying the journey and better at not rushing for the finish line.

But this is one lesson I haven't yet integrated into my "real" life. Let me explain; from time to time, I get what I can only describe as a creative surge. This is a powerful, primal sense that I must do something, make something, change something. This feeling is a little bit uncomfortable. It pushes me to get started and I immediately go into 'finishing mode.' I must do something and I must do it NOW. The only way I can describe it is as a kind of frenzy of action.

Sometimes their surge comes with a clear message and I know exactly what to do. This happened 11 years ago when I suddenly knew I had to leave the US and move back home. The surge was there but it was accompanied by a clear direction - home.

But often the surge comes before the clear direction. It's as though there is electricity running through me, but nothing for it to power up. The sensible thing to do would be to wait for the direction to show itself - but I sometimes find myself forcing the issue. I try to make decisions anyway, as if just acting on the impulse will make me feel better. 

When I was younger, I always simply took the action, then dealt with the consequences. This meant, for example, moving all the way to Toronto with no idea what any Toronto even looked like (or how cold it was!) It was a major adjustment but I dealt with it and made a life. But I can't help but wonder what other possibilities were waiting to show themselves if I had just taken a breath.

Now that I'm older and hopefully wiser, I find that I can more often discern between a surge and a surge with a clear direction. I can feel when something is the right thing versus when it is 'doing something just to do something.'

It's still uncomfortable, sitting with that surge and it's especially hard to be patient when I have the direction and know what to do, but can't move as quickly as I would like.

I find myself there now. I have found an exciting opportunity, but I can't execute on it without other people, and those other people are not moving quickly. In fact it feels like they are slower than snails. It's all I can do to stop myself driving over to meet them and demanding to know what's holding things up.

I found myself thinking about this over coffee this morning.... isn't this a lot like how I used to be with my paintings? I used to try and push things along before they were ready. I used to let my desire for a result spoil my enjoyment of the process. And, as a result, I often made decisions that weren't helpful. I covered half the painting in red or sanded everything back, just because I didn't know what else to do. Those rushed actions got me nowhere and I think the same is true in life.

So here is my vow to myself: I will enjoy the anticipation of this thing I desire. I will savour it. I will imagine it. I will picture how I want things to go and smile. This is the exciting part - why whizz past it on the way to actually having the thing? Because actually, once I have the thing, it's only a matter of time before I get a new creative surge and I start the whole process again. (Which means it's possible to go through my entire life never enjoying anything because I'm so focused on executing the latest creative surge).

And here is my question for you... does any of this resonate with you?

Are there times when you forget to enjoy the process of creating?

Are you so focused on the finishing line that you forget to relish the race?

Do you sometimes take action on your paintings even when you actually don't yet know what to do?

And finally, can you join me in trying to make the most of the entire creative journey - from initial idea through all the stages that come before we finish the thing and start all over again?

That, I think, is the secret to life.