I Want What I Want When I Want It

I am self-made, self-sufficient, and self-supporting, along with being self-reliant, self-confident and self-motivated. I am also self-righteous, self-serving, self-critical, self-centered, and perhaps just a wee bit self-absorbed.

I reek of responsibility and good reputation.
I hold dear my anxiety, all the while remaining tethered to my resentment.
Stubborn, I’m like a dog with a bone in its mouth.
I get mired in the details—a known list-maker and lint-picker.
I wanted the badge of busyness so badly, then life got too complicated.
I’m tired: tired of being late, late, late, never feeling that I can possibly get everything done, wearing myself out with my accomplishing, questioning, and searching. I’m feverish with all my thinking, afraid to stop doing… afraid of what might happen if I did.
I have a lot of rules, with a tendency to wear my halo a little tight.
A know-it-all, I can be annoyingly bossy.
I want to be mad. I want to be right. I want to be liked.
I long to have patience immediately.
I can be tight-lipped and stingy, especially with small things.
I want to poke you in the forehead when you can’t, won’t, or don’t get to the point.
I yearn to have everything neat and tidy, like my sock drawer.
I want to be the boss. (I don’t want to be responsible, I just want to be in charge.)
I’m never simply cold, hungry, or tired. Nooo, I’m freezing, starving, or exhausted.
I get cranky if I haven’t eaten. (Actually, I get hostile if I haven’t eaten.)
I want more than I have and I want things to be different.
I get confused. (I’m not the one to ask if you need directions.)
I have a few beliefs no one can talk me out of.
I carry unmet expectations, mostly of myself.
I have an edgy mistrust when it comes to affairs of the heart.
I haven’t decided how I feel about God. It’s absurd to suppose that He would choose his companions for all eternity only those whose sole ambition was to obey. I also no longer believe the stories I’ve been told about being a blotch on His creation. Who makes this stuff up anyway?

Am I happy? At times, when I don’t let my thoughts and emotions drag me around. Am I learning compassion? Yes, one breath at a time. It’s not, however, my strong suit.

I worry less about what I do and more about how I be.
Instead of “please” I practice saying “thank you.”
What I believe is true for me, so I’m careful as to what I believe. I also try not to believe everything I think.

I try to be grateful.
I try to be mindful.
I try to surrender.
And sometimes I hit a good lick!

I do the best I can, and then I let it go.
I am that I am, and I am enough.

I wish that—and this—for my children, my grandchildren, and their children, and theirs:
That they hold dear their genuine curiosity, that they persevere, and that they joyously experience the miraculous Seven Wonders of the World:
~to see
~to hear
~to touch
~to taste
~to feel
~to laugh
~to love

I want them to know seventh heaven and the seven seas. I want them to be fearless, passionate, thankful, and kind. I want them to grow up and be useful, to make a difference, and to lead a life well lived. And with the greatest of hope, I want them to know peace.

Catherine (Clemens) Sevenau
July 2014