The comparison of moving slowly and being impatient

My least favourite thing is patience. I hate waiting. Over the years, I have grown to accept  that I will have to wait in lines and wait for people to get organized,  but I struggle when it comes to my own development and sense of self. If I set my mind to improving such and such a skill or personal habit then I want it to feel intrinsic and natural right away. My grace for my own learning curve is pretty limited.

I also need a lot of time to process things especially ideas or things that effect me emotionally. Ironic isn’t it. I know that I can’t move fast and when I feel pressure to hurry up,  I get anxious and disconnected with myself and the people around me. Yet, when I require time to adjust I find it hard to give myself that space.

Mali is a giant learning curve. From learning the language, cultural norms, and job expectations to trying to figure out where my grocery store is going to be, how to discover a city that still relies on landmarks to give directions, and making friends. I left Canada one month ago today, and arrived in Mali a month ago tomorrow. There are some parts of living here that feel natural and intrinsic and then the majority of time things still feel foreign, and unfamiliar, which makes me feel uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that I want to go home but uncomfortable in a way that I can feel myself growing but don’t know how yet or how to express how it feels. So I am trying to take things slowly, take signs from the people, the land, the weather, and give myself time to adjust to this new world I am calling home.  So here’s to letting the dust settle and adjusting to my new surroundings.

All the love,

K.