I've been wondering whether impatience is my inborn trait or I acquired it through the years of living in big cities. In either case, there was no better place to explore my impatience than while traveling through colorful destinations of Dominican Republic, the island where time and its inhabitants' relationship to it takes on different qualities than what I'm used to.
As a Dominican friend explained, once she moved back after living in New York city for several years, it took her a while to get used to, for example, that a cashier in a bank could have you wait for ten minutes while she is finishing up a conversation with her mother-in-law. You get the picture.
Luckily, traveling through the island I had many opportunities to watch my impatience rise from my stomach, mixed with the sense of entitlement, flavored with disappointment and frustration and garnished with self-righteousness, getting crushed against the shores of my consciousness as foamy and mighty waves of famous surfing beaches in Cabarete.
Recently someone told me about being undeserving, a way of being where no-one owes me anything; like the world is not there to serve my needs and please me, but when it does, to accept it as a grace and a gift. Imagine that!
Where in your life is your opportunity to be undeserving?
Photos by Mikhail Tis and Misha Lyuve
Original posting: "Impatience and Being Undeserving"
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