The basic currency here were “bids” for attention, and attention.
He found that those who stayed together and thrived in their relationships responded to bids with attention 86% of the time, while those who failed in their relationships averaged only 33% attention response. (source)
And because if you’re anything like me, you now have that delirium-inducing whine in your head:
Last week, for the umpteenth time, someone said to me, “You’re more patient than I am.”
And I said, as I often do, “I’m Not Patient. I’m Curious.” I went on to explain that it doesn’t take patience for me to deal with people most of the time, because I have an insatiable curiosity for what people will say and do, how they think, what they desire, their beliefs and more.
Something tugged at me, and made me do some research.
the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.
And I have to admit, I am a patient person.
Or, as I like to say, “I’m not at a patient person, but I play one in real life.”
I don’t FEEL patient.
I want what I want NOW. I don’t want to wait.
My inner toddler is throwing themselves on the ground yelling and kicking and screaming about not getting her way IMMEDIATAMENTE (as they par-lay on Frawn-says).
But I don’t show that. Because it’s rude to act that way at 45 (nearly 46), and frankly, it won’t do me any damn good, and actually might hinder me getting there.
So I don’t.
And frankly, it’s not that hard. It’s second nature to me now to overrule my inner Veruca Salt and simply be calm and peaceful, and well, patient.
Which, honestly, I never really thought much about.
Because inside I don’t feel that way.
So, I don’t FEEL patient.
But on the outside, in my actions, in my behaviors, I’m cool as a cucumber. Or at least a slightly warmed summer peach.
I don’t flip my lid.
Maybe 2x a year? I don’t know. It’s rare.
So, I guess I am patient. And I consider that a good thing.
However, the point I’ve been making all along is equally important. Perhaps more so.
When it comes to dealing with people, specifically, rather than cultivate patience, I find it easier to cultivate a lack of provocation and strain.
I rarely take it personally.
I am rarely offended.
I find people fascinating (even when I disagree with them or find their views repugnant).
And these things add up to not needing to exercise patience, but instead trying to connect with people more often in more ways, and experiencing their ideas and words and insights in ways I never could if I were provoked and strained and practiced patience.
So, I was wrong (and ya’ll were right).
And I was right (ya’ll weren’t wrong).
And I’m not only good with this, I’ve learned more about the world and how we all navigate it.
What are your thoughts?
How do you experience patience (if at all)?
Have you always been patient (or impatient)? Is it something that has changed for you over the years? How has it helped/harmed you?
One of the things I love about kink is all the amazing things we kinksters get up to. All the freaky shit we do. The ideas that flow out of our heads.
Today, I’d love to read some of that shit.
Big, small, crazy, weird, fun or learning experience, share it!
Finally checked off a fantasy bucket list item?
Created an amazing scene for someone?
Learned a new skill?
Started learning a new skill, and still suck at it, but happy anyway?
Do happy things for/with someone (including yourself)?
Let’s share our wonderful brags with each other.
1. Share ANYTHING you’re proud of. Kink is wonderful. Non-Kink is also welcome. Links to projects, writing, photos, whatever are also welcome here. Self-promote, if you wanna.
2. Give someone else props for their amazing thing, if you can. Love comments, tell them how fuckballs fantastic they are, or, if they are doing something you are interested in, connect to share.
3. Negativity will be deleted. I don’t EVER do this, except here. I’m telling you now. Don’t be an asshole. If you aren’t wild about something, scroll by. If you think something is negative, let me know.
the jittery fluttering feeling as you talk to someone you fancy
When we speak, our vocabulary often gives people an impression of us, especially what our intelligence quotient, or IQ, might be.
When we feel a full range of emotions, we are exhibiting our emotional quotient, or EQ, might be.
In a conversation this morning, Selene mentioned somebody with “the emotional range of a teaspoon.” It made me laugh.
We all know people like this, who live life in a small handful of emotions:
The problem with this simplicity of feeling is that if you are not happy, then you are sad or angry. Boredom becomes sadness. Conflicted become angry.
There is no room for contentment, fulfillment, satisfaction, peacefulness…
There is also no clear distinction for joy, wonderment, ebullience, amazement, or bliss.
Anger is angry. Not peeved, or peckish, not frustrated or put-out. It’s also not ragey or furious or stormy.
And where might comfort, or compassion or meditative find their spot?
When everything becomes so simplistic, we actually live a less fulfilling life. We don’t even really get to EXPERIENCE the range of emotion, because we cannot describe it to ourselves and label those feeling, leaning into them.
And, even when we might experience them, we don’t have the opportunity to really embrace them and appreciate them. Like kilig. Now that you know there is a word for that, I bet you’ll recognize it when it comes around again.
The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows offers up words for things we never realized we had words for before, giving us a more layered look at life, like sonder or occhiolism.
Other languages bring us new concepts and ideas. Like Greek, and the types of love:
I have so many problems that I’ll be busy now until the day I die, and still not overcome them all.
We all have problems, all of us.
“If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d grab ours back.” — Regina Brett
For me this is true.
But because we’re the protagonists of our own little dramas, our problems may seem like their some kinda big deal.
Thing is, if we die tomorrow, our problems probably won’t matter much…
This is not to make light of them.
Your problems are yours, and they are valid.
Here’s the thing, though, if you’re letting those problems get you down (which I’ve done, myself more than once):
Your problems don’t define you.
How you handle your problems does.
Remember that what you’re going through is just a part of your present and it will soon be a part of your past.
It’s not your life.
It’s a current situation.
YOU are every problem you’ve ever overcome.
You are every loving word you’ve ever spoken to lift others. You are every smile you’ve ever inspired on another’s face. You are the hugs you give and the happiness you share. You are the giggles you tell jokes for. You are the shoulder others cry on. You are the directions you give to a stranger on the street.
You are all of this.
And you are your problems.
But you are not JUST your problems, I promise you. Even if it seems that way right now.
I am not just my problems, either.
In fact, I don’t call my problems “problems.”
a matter or situation regarded as unwelcome or harmful and needing to be dealt with and overcome.
a task or situation that tests someone’s abilities.
I call them challenges. And that actually makes a huge difference for me. Sure, they test my abilities, my patience, and my mood. That is neither necessarily unwelcome or harmful.
“How much can you know about yourself if you’ve never been in a fight?” — Tyler Durdin
You are not just your problems.
YOU Define you. With your actions. All of them. From the moment of the beginning of you, until the end of it all.
And that give you a lot of amazing you to help you overcome your challenges.
(Well, you probably don’t. Most people who read my writings don’t know me. Not well enough to trust me.)
Don’t take me at my word.
Don’t believe what I say.
Don’t make changes in your life because of me.
Because you don’t really know me. And you don’t know what my purposes are in writing all these…counts…773 blogs.
You don’t know whether I’ve done my research (or whether I’m cherry-picking links) or I’m talking out my ass. Whether I use alternative facts or not. Whether I give two shits (or less) about you and your personal growth, relationship success, or kink endeavors.
I might be trying to subvert the world. Create unthinking automatons. Make kink into the image I see in my head. Or, maybe I want to sow chaos and insanity.
(Sometimes the comments almost convince me of that last one, LOL!)
I may just be WRONG with all the best intentions.
Thing is, I don’t want you to trust me. Not with what I write here. Not even that I look like my pictures.
(I don’t—I really only choose the ones that look FAR better than my daily visage, and that should tell you how hideous I truly am on the street).
Look for ways to prove me wrong.
Make up your own damn mind.
Or don’t. That’s your right also.
I’m just telling you that I don’t want you to trust me.
I’m starting early, because I know this is a tough one.
I’ve been reducing why for a while. A few years. Sometimes it still slips out. I can’t help it. It feels so DAMN good.
“WHY” is a mental masturbation trap. It’s so easy to get sucked into.
It feels so good when we think we may have ‘why’ figured it out, but it’s also mental masochism, because we don’t REALLY know and we know we don’t really know.
Even when they tell us ‘why,’ we know that their given reason (no matter how sincere or honest) is often not the REAL reason.
Sure, the reason they give for ‘why’ is often enlightening. We can learn from it.
It rarely really ‘why,’ though.
Science has shown that humans use a decide-first-justify-later process for nearly everything. Our emotions tell us what to do, based on our personal priorities, survival language, and perceived good, then we explain ‘why’ even to ourselves.
In other words, even those of us who really pay attention and self-reflect rarely know why we’re doing what we’re doing.
So, for example, it’s a more accurate judge of character to just go by behaviors over time and assume people have their reasons.
From there we can determine (ie: decide-first-justify-later) our own reactions and move on.
Because ‘why’ is tempting. Asking “Why?” put the blame and emotional labor onto others (which is a HUGE relief when we are feeling burdened by whatever).
I’ve been pretty good about removing that from my life.
Instead of “Why do you feel that way,” I might say, “What inspired that?”
Instead of “Why did you do _____ ,” I might ask, “What made _____ seem to be the best action?”
Now, these may not seem all that different. And they are not, except in one thing:
What, in these cases focuses focuses on actual thoughts and actions they have had, versus making someone dig through the murky waters of their brain for justifications.
And it doesn’t create as strong a knee-jerk response of defensiveness in most people as “Why?” does.
That’s worked for me, mostly.
It’s harder to stop asking ‘why’ in my head, and trying to fill in the answers about other people’s behaviors. But I’m working on it.
I just focus on what I’m feeling when I start asking that question, and listen to my thoughts and feelings. I also look at the actual behaviors and think about them from a logical perspective, then let go and move on.
It’s been good to me.
I’m going to work on it more.
Because I don’t even like regular masturbation much. Mental masturbation, I like even less.