I excel at running - not literally. Literally, I hate running and I feel like I'm bad at it. But my modus operandi consists of running continually away and away. I will always "live to fight another day". Through the years, I have become good at fighting, literally. But I hate to fight, and will only fight when my back is against the wall, and I have no other choice.
So I've found myself running through the maze of life at a breakneck pace, trying to will things to happen. But they won't. It's as though I've reached a cosmic blockage in the road. Or, more likely, a wall came up in the maze, and I find myself surrounded by walls.
The mouse in this picture could easily chew through a wall. We must pretend they are made of stone. What then?
Lately, I have had to cultivate patience, to withdraw inside of my small world and gather strength. Due to the cyclical nature of things, if I do not learn this, the world will force me to confront it until I do.
You must not call it slacking. I can run no more in any direction. This is difficult for me. I do not want to learn patience, but I must.
At night, I have been meditating. 10 breaths in, through the nostrils, 3 breaths out, all the way to 1, and then back up. One step at a time. I can master this thing called patience, too.