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03/13/2001 Archived Entry: "Impatient buddhist"

If you asked me to characterize my failings as a Buddhist, if I stopped laughing long enough to answer, I'd probably say two things first: 1)I talk too much. I can't just let things be, sometimes "I have to say something." 2)And, on a personal level, I'm not a very patient man. This evening that was different.

Late this afternoon, I headed over to San Francisco to stop in and scope out the Zen Center Bookstore. Nicole and I have plans for dinner tomorrow and she's hopeful of getting her hands (or rear) on a zafu. She's been talking about getting one for a while and we've chatted about the various aspects that are important. I went by today, to see what zafus the Zen Center has and to confirm their hours. They will be open tomorrow evening between 6:30 and 7:30 when Nicole and I hope to drop in. Unfortunately, they only stock black zafus. Nicole wants a color other than black. The zafus they carry are filled with kapok (They carry buckwheat hull filled ones, too.) and they can order colored zafus. So, I'm not sure what Nicole and I will do tomorrow. I guess it will be up to her. But, I will have good information to share with her.

After being at the Zen Center, I went across the street to wait for Katie at the Laguna Cafe that Katie had told me about. It was wonderful in there. I ordered an iced tea and sat in the "library" of the cafe and read Buddhism without Beliefs. At a little after 6PM, it dawned on me that Katie was running a little late, but I turned my attention back to my reading and assured myself that she was just having trouble getting away from her busy job. I thought that she would likely show up and apologize for being "late." And I wanted to tell her that no apology was needed as I had felt no hurt from her lateness. I felt very much centered in the reading I was doing in the moment and I was enjoying it.

First, it's important to note that I don't wait well. I frequently end up walking long distances 'cause I don't want to wait for unreliable buses. I feel my anxiety rise dramatically when I'm "expecting someone" even before they are due to arrive. If they fail to arrive on time, I have to work consciously to not mentally write them off. I believe that this intense reaction I feel is rooted in the countless times I remember waiting for my father to come to get me for visits after my parents divorced and him frequently not showing up and me not believing I was loved by him.

Tonight, I was certain of Katie's love for me and reasonably certain of my own love for me. And, I was able to embrace the reading I was doing at the time, myself and Katie when she arrived apologizing for being late.