I have always seen myself as a patient person. I am finding that I can be impatient as well. Sometimes, even recklessly impetuous. Perhaps it is something you get to discover when you get older. Perhaps I am feeling more secure in my footing, unlike my struggle with bodily balance. All this time, I thought impatience was a trait of youth.
I was a much more cautious younger me. Maybe that was just last year, maybe last week? I experience the caution in others, and I sometime regret my impatience. However, I realize that it is a habit I have somewhere, sometime, somehow begun to shed. I love the bold rush that accompanies impulsivity, but it also still unsettles me. Walking on the edge still disturbs me. A little. Maybe, however, I am learning where my feet can find their home, so I can run up to the edge and back again. Their home is somewhat ambiguous but warm. And I think I know where it is.