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Floundering Fortitude

Floundering Fortitude

Floundering Fortitude

I often joke that I must have been the testiest twit in a previous life because Gavin is the pokiest creature I’ve ever met. Even though he thrives on routine and loves snuggling and sleeping at my mom’s house on kitchen days, getting him out the door weekly provides me with monumental moments to practice patience. 

Once he’s there, he rolls around on his back and grumbles, just like he does when we come home from a walk and never in a place that looks even remotely comfortable. Because my dawdling dog was especially snaillike this week, I arrived at the kitchen about 15 minutes later than usual, and those 15 minutes are crucial to how the rest of the day goes.

Cammie, EmiLee, and I kicked serious pouch-making butt despite the slow start. We’ve worked hard to make our processes a well-oiled machine, and they were, finally. Every time the timer alerted us that the pouches were ready to come out of the sous vide, one of us would say, “Perfect timing,” able to check on them in seconds.

We made 510 pouches, and all three left by 7 p.m., a record. I commented that we wouldn’t know what to do when we’re not finding ways to improve, and Cammie responded, “There are always opportunities to improve,” one of the many things I adore about her.

As a person who thrives on progress and bettering efficiency, not knowing and standing still is utterly uncomfortable. So, five weeks from my lease being up and having put in hours and hours of effort, I’m tapping my foot and biting my lip with no home on the horizon yet. It’s affecting my sleep, and then I feel guilty because so many people in this world suffer from horrible tragedy and pain. I should breathe. I have so much to be thankful for, and my efforts will pay off.

While I walked Gavin Wednesday (where all my best ideas or solutions hit me), I decided to practice patience because I still have five weeks to find a place to live. Even typing that makes my heart beat faster. But I must let go and trust I’m doing everything to find our new home.

So, instead of operating every moment in motor mode with a clock ticking behind my ear, I’ll try to enjoy the process. Not long ago, there was a time when our kitchen days were utterly exhausting and sometimes comically long. Now, when things don’t go as planned (they never do), we have confidence and grace while we re-group and move forward with plan B (or C or D). And it’s so much easier, even enjoyable. 

It reminds me to keep reminding myself that things will work out, and maybe effort, toiling, and restlessness aren’t the answer. Perhaps I need to sit with Gavin when I don’t need him to go anywhere and sing his theme song, “you can’t hurry Gavin, no, you just have to wait” (to the tune of “You Can’t Hurry Love.”) 

For all you patient people out there, I salute you. It’s no small feat. 

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